


SWTOR: A Chronicle of Blood and Bone, Part VI: Lunatics on Both Sides

by PJPaz



Series: SWTOR: A Chronicle of Blood and Bone [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Black Talon, Brentaal Star, Planet Korriban | Moraband (Star Wars), Sith Academy (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27754111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJPaz/pseuds/PJPaz
Summary: Sith acolyte Arkarix Krell faces a final Test, which will require the cooperation of a willful Twi'lek captive to complete.  Meanwhile, Sith and Republic forces clash when a Republic battleship comes under attack by forces aboard a Sith transport: The Black Talon!
Series: SWTOR: A Chronicle of Blood and Bone [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821745
Kudos: 4





	1. A Means to an End

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction series is an attempt to combine all eight of the class stories from Star Wars: The Old Republic into a single narrative. I am doing this without particular regard for official canon or timelines – My goal is not to create a definitive article, but simply to fashion the best overarching story I can from the parts Bioware already created. Those who have played the game will observe changes from the source material.
> 
> This series directly follows the story/stories of the game itself… So consider that a spoiler warning if you haven’t played it. Though I have endeavored not to directly transcribe anything from Wookiepiedia, this work remains indebted to that site for background lore referenced within the story. Further, much material is directly re-used from Star Wars: The Old Republic and its ancillary material. That said, I will not bind myself to either the “correct lore” or the exact characters and events of the game if it conflicts with what I regard as the best direction for my story.
> 
> There won’t be any particular schedule for updates, as this project is being done “for fun” around other work and projects. Each update, when it is posted, will be treated as if it was an “episode” of an ongoing series – When an update appears, it will have its own internal narrative structure, so each update will have a degree of resolution in itself. 
> 
> The standard disclaimers apply: All Star Wars material is property of Walt Disney and Lucasfilm. Star Wars: The Old Republic is a property of BioWare and EA. This is all just for fun; no copyright infringement is intended. 

A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY…

STAR WARS

The Old Republic – Episode Six

LUNATICS ON BOTH SIDES

With Overseer Tremel disposed of, acolyte

ARKARIX KRELL finds himself at the

command of the imposing Sith Lord,

DARTH BARAS.

As his rigorous training continues, fellow

acolyte and former slave REYENNA DESME

has completed her own Trials, becoming

the apprentice of DARTH ZASH.

While Reyenna prepares for her journey to

DROMUND KAAS, capital of the SITH

EMPIRE, Arkarix Krell receives word that

his final Trial is about to begin…

He was Sith, and Sith feared nothing.

Arkarix Krell repeated this like a mantra as he walked to Darth Baras’ office. It did nothing to calm his apprehension. Overseer Tremel had been a fool, blinded by his obsession with bloodlines, but even he had recognized the truth: Until the Trials ended, Krell would be no more a Sith than the lowliest of slaves.

Until he completed his last Trial, he was nothing.

“Come forward, Acolyte.”

Darth Baras sat in the chair that had once been Tremel’s, behind the enormous desk that had once been the overseer’s as well. The conqueror, enjoying the spoils of a vanquished enemy.

Baras seemed to sense his thoughts. “You disapprove?” He gestured to the desk.

“It’s a bit ostentatious for my liking." Krell stared directly forward, refusing to allow his apprehension to show in either face or voice. He would not show weakness to Baras.

The Sith Lord inclined his head. “I agree. This desk is a monument, proclaiming power. Just as only a fool is compelled to announce his own cleverness, only a weakling declares his own power. Still, I do not intend to remain long on this planet. The only question is whether I will be leaving alone.”

Baras stood. He clasped his armored hands behind his back and began to pace.

“You are to seek a very special lightsaber,” Baras told him. “It is old, and it is powerful. It is housed in a forbidden cavern in the Tomb of Tulak Hord. Few have ever set foot there. Almost no one knows how to find the secret entrance. But…”

Baras stopped, looked back at him. Though any expression was hidden by his mask, Krell had the distinct impression that he was smirking.

“We have a Twi’lek in the holding pens who was captured breaking into it.” His amusement was unmistakable. “Take her. Make her show you the entrance to the forbidden cave.”

Krell bowed.

“As you command, my Lord.”

“One more thing,” Baras said. “Other acolytes have also been sent to the Tomb. You are well-known as Tremel’s pet. With him gone, they will try to earn my favor by murdering you.”

Krell remained impassive, standing in place and looking forward at the Sith Lord.

Baras had apparently anticipated a reply, either of dismay or of bloodlust. Krell’s silence irritated him. When he spoke again, his voice was harsh, even angry.

“Bolster yourself, Acolyte,” he snarled. “When you enter the Tomb of Tulak Hord, you will breathe in death itself!”

***

He found the Twi’lek in a cell in the holding area. She had been fitted with a shock collar. The jailer was testing the device, cackling as he applied repeated shocks. The girl was curled into a fetal ball, moaning from pain – but she earned a hint of respect from Krell through the look of hatred she shot at her tormenter.

“Enough of that, I think,” Krell said as he approached.

The jailer straightened. “My Lord.” He jerked his head at the Twi’lek. “I hear you’ll be relieving me of Vette. I won’t miss her. She’s a pain in the neck.”

“Who’s a pain in the neck?” Vette snapped, her fingers gingerly rubbing the skin around her shock collar.

The jailer immediately punched his finger on his wrist activator. Vette’s body jerked spasmodically. The jailer then removed the wrist device and extended it to Krell.

“I took the liberty of turning up the pain settings,” he leered. “The wrist device also reads your life signs. The collar will explode if you die, or if she is more than 10 miles away from you."

“Can I reset that distance?” Krell asked. “The restriction may become inconvenient.”

“Easy,” the jailer shrugged. “Go into the code and reset it to whatever you’d like. Just don’t forget to do that if you’re going off-world and plan to leave her behind. Otherwise, you’ll come back to a mess.”

The man grinned, reveling the thought, as he opened the door to Vette’s cell. He lingered by the open door, grinning.

“What are you waiting for? A gratuity?” Krell snapped. “Leave us!”

The jailer shrugged again, then ambled out. Vette lingered in the cell, eyeing Krell warily.

“I expect you would prefer life out of that jail,” he said drily.

“Depends on the life.” She still had not moved. 

“I am Sith. I have been surrounded by slaves my entire life. I have never molested any of them.”

“I am no slave!” A hint of fire in her eyes, anger in her voice. Good.

“Your life ceased to be yours the instant you were captured,” he said. “This is your new reality. The rest of your life depends upon your obedience and usefulness.”

He spoke coldly and bluntly. The faster she accepted the truth, the better it would be for both of them.

She fingered her collar, and her defiance gradually drained away. She eyed the control unit on his wrist.

“You won’t…” A hint of fear, though she kept it controlled.

“Only degenerates and weaklings inflict pain for their own pleasure. I am neither. But if you attempt defiance, I will discipline you.”

It wasn’t much of an agreement, but it was the best Vette could expect. She stepped toward Krell, leaving the cell.

“You were caught breaking into the Tomb of Tulak Hord,” he said.

Her eyes widened, and for the first time she smiled. “You can’t figure out how to open the forbidden cavern! None of you!”

“I am certain we would get through in time,” Krell replied. “But my Master is impatient. Can you access the cavern?”

She hesitated, weighing her options. Krell said nothing. He didn’t need to. She was clearly intelligent. No nudge was required for her to see that she had no options.

“I guess I can play tomb tour guide,” she said. “It’s what I came here for in the first place.”

He inclined his head, gestured toward the door.

“Just so we’re clear,” she added. “I’m officially on strike when it comes to domestic duties.”

“No, you’re not,” he said casually.

She glanced at the device on his wrist.

“No,” she acknowledged. “No, I’m not.”

***

As he and Vette left the grounds, Krell checked the time. Reyenna’s shuttle would still be boarding. If he hurried, he should be able to catch her.

He arrived as she was preparing to board. She stood with Darth Zash and the monstrous Dashade, Khem Val. Reyenna saw him, said a quick word to Zash. The Sith Lord nodded, and Reyenna moved to him with a grin.

“Come to see me off?” she said. “We’re going on a Gage-class transport ship. We’ll get there quickly, and in comfort. I feel almost like a queen!”

Then she noticed Vette. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the shock collar, and her expression grew dark. "What is this?”

Krell cursed himself. He should have told Vette to wait a safe distance away. It wasn’t as if she could run away.

“She’s just part of my final Trial,” he explained. “Nothing of consequence.”

“Hey!” Vette protested. “I’m standing right here!”

Reyenna reached for Krell’s wrist and activated the collar. Vette cried out, reaching for her neck as she fell to the ground.

Krell switched it off, startled at Reyenna’s actions.

“You must be new to being a slave,” Reyenna snapped at Vette. “A few survival tips. Never talk back. Never speak unless you’re spoken to. The more invisible you are, the better.”

She turned back to Krell. “What's this about your final Trial?”

“She can get me into a secret chamber in one of the Tombs.” His voice all but pleaded with her to understand. “She is a means to an end, nothing more.”

“That’s all a slave ever is." Reyenna glanced back at Vette. The Twi’lek was already pulling herself to her feet. “Well, she's very pretty, and she seems to have some spirit. I’m sure you’ll find her amusing.”

“I have no plans to – ”

She laughed. “Oh, please. Do you think I’m jealous? We both knew what this was. I got something from you, and you got something from me. It was fun, and it was useful, but it was never anything more.”

Krell shook his head, bewildered. No part of this encounter was going as he had planned.

Reyenna smiled at Krell, but this time it was devoid of warmth. Her gaze was cold, harsh, and cynical.

“Good luck with your Trial,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll succeed. You always do.”

She walked away, to her waiting shuttle. Krell stared, slack-jawed, after her.

Vette spoke up from behind his shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you? I almost feel sorry for you.”

Krell shot her a glare. She flinched, glancing at his wrist.

He didn’t activate the device, though. It would be wrong to punish her when all she had done was speak the truth.


	2. Crying in the Dark

The emergency happened quickly. One moment, Master Yuon was with Canlyn Dessan in the Jedi Temple archives, cataloging artifacts from the ruins of Kaleth. She was talking merrily about the symbolism of some ancient carvings.

It was her voice that alerted Canlyn. It grew slower, the words beginning to slur. Even then, it was only Canlyn's feline reflexes that allowed her to catch the older woman before she felt to the floor.

“I didn’t sense anything,” she told Satele Shan, the Jedi Grandmaster. “One moment she was perfectly fine, the next…”

She was in Satele’s office, along with Qyzen Fess, the Trandoshan hunter Yuon had befriended long ago. 

Master Syo Bakarn joined them, coming straight from the infirmary.

“She is resting comfortably for now,” Syo said. “I won’t lie. Her condition is grave.”

“We have the finest healers in the galaxy,” Satele protested. “Surely they can treat her.”

Qyzen spoke up. “Yuon tried to heal. Was no sickness she knew.”

Syo’s eyes flashed in a rare show of temper. “You knew Yuon was ill?” he snapped. “And you didn’t inform us?”

“Is not for me to tell secrets,” Qyzen replied. “Was her wish to train one last hunter.” He nodded to Canlyn. “I understood.”

Canlyn’s mind raced to keep up with this revelation. Her Master was deathly ill, and had known this. Qyzen had also been aware, and had kept the dying woman’s secret.

_Dying._ No, Canlyn thought. Death might be a part of the natural order – but not without a fight. Not at least without understanding why.

Satele seemed to be of the same mind.

“We will send Master Yuon to Coruscant,” she declared. “The capital has the finest medical technology in the Republic, and our researchers there continue to recover artifacts from the Jedi Temple.” The Temple that had been destroyed by the Sith invasion twenty years earlier.

Syo protested. “It’s a fragile hope at best. Technology might suspend her condition for a time, but if the disease cannot be identified – ”

“A fragile hope is better than no hope at all.” Satele spoke firmly, her tone allowing no argument. Syo bowed his head and departed.

Satele turned to Canlyn. “The fastest way to get Master Yuon to Coruscant is to rendezvous with the _Brentaal Star_. It’s a Republic military ship, returning from the Imperial border. As it happens, there is an important passenger aboard. An Imperial defector, with critical information he plans to reveal to the Senate. I am officially tasking the two of you with his protection. At all costs, he is to reach the Senate chamber safely.”

Canlyn nodded gravely. “I will protect him with my life,” she promised.

Satele smiled in reply. “I wouldn’t worry,” she said. “Almost nobody knows about the defector. The ship’s captain has requested Jedi protection for the final leg of the journey, and granting that request will get Yuon to Coruscant quickly. Be mindful, of course. But I expect this mission should be entirely uneventful.”

***

As soon as they boarded the shuttle, Qyzen froze, sniffing the air.

“What’s wrong?” Canlyn asked.

Qyzen sniffed again, then relaxed. “Is no threat,” he said simply. 

He sat as close to Yuon as the medical team would allow. His posture was rigid, as if on guard. Though Canlyn did not feel completely satisfied by his answer, she chose not to press, instead taking the seat beside him.

The shuttle was not capable of light speed, making it a two hour flight to reach the rendezvous coordinates. A little over halfway there, Canlyn heard a noise that sounded like it came from inside the hull.

She tensed. “What is that?”

“Relax, Herald.” Qyzen rose. He walked three steps and opened one of the upper storage compartments.

Ashara Zavros came tumbling out, letting out a startled cry as she crashed to the floor.

A member of Yuon’s medical team and the shuttle’s co-pilot came running back. Canlyn waved them away, assuring them all was fine. Then she wheeled on her friend. Ashara had recovered enough to grin sheepishly up at her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Canlyn demanded.

“You need me,” Ashara said. “Master Yuon needs me. Besides, do you really think I’m going to stay on Tython stacking rocks while you fly off to Coruscant?”

Canlyn glared at Qyzen. “You knew!”

“Smelled her when boarding,” Qyzen acknowledged. “Recognized scent of friend. I said no threat. Is no threat.”

Canlyn turned back to Ashara. “They will kick you out of the Order for this!”

“Like they aren’t on the verge of doing that already! I believe in the Jedi, Lyn. But I won’t choose the Order over a friend.”

Canlyn frowned, turning the situation over in her mind. They could not turn back to Tython. If they missed the rendezvous with the _Brentaal Star_ , it might take days to get Master Yuon to Coruscant. Time she very well might not have.

“Very well,” Canlyn said. “But I will not lie for you, Ashara. And when we reach Coruscant, I will have to report this to the Council.”

“I know. I’m prepared for the consequences, Lyn.” Ashara tried for a casual shrug, but Canlyn sensed her friend’s sadness even as she smiled. “Maybe I was never suited to be a Jedi in the first place.”

***

_Sith_ , Cipher Nine fumed. _Why does it always have to be Sith?_

Two days after the _Black Talon_ had departed from Nal Hutta, the ship suddenly deviated from its course. It had been meant to go directly to the Imperial capital at Dromund Kaas. Instead, the captain issued a politely worded apology for an unavoidable stopover at Korriban.

As soon as they turned, Cipher synced her implants to the ship’s internal cameras. Now, as their new arrivals boarded, she projected the image so the others could see. Zarek Voss, a bounty hunter who had proved useful on Hutta, lounged against the back wall. His wet hair, which almost comically flopped over the horns on his forehead, attested to his enjoyment of the _Talon_ 's shower facilities. His associate, Mako, sat in a chair beside him.

She was happy enough to host Zarek and Mako. She was less pleased about the third visitor to her room: Her unwanted new colleague, former anarchist Kaliyo Djannis. 

Kaliyo whistled as the elegant blonde Sith Lord and her slender apprentice stepped into view. “They’re actually cute,” Kaliyo remarked. “Sith chicks usually go for the whole skeletal nightmare look, but I’d buy a drink for either of these two.”

Cipher fixed her with a withering glare. “Go for it. Let me know how it goes.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? They get offended and pull my internal organs out through my eyeballs, and you offer your sincere apologies to Keeper. ‘I tried to keep her alive, honest. But she got in the path of a couple Sith.’ ” Kaliyo's grin didn’t waver as she shook her head. “Sorry, boss. I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

_Like a bad rash_ , Cipher reflected, though she didn’t give Kaliyo the satisfaction of saying so aloud.

“What is _that_?” Kaliyo gasped.

Cipher turned back to the image in time to see a monstrous beast following the Sith. Even from a distance, she could see the length and sharpness of its fangs and claws. _Trust a Sith to have a pet monster._

"It doesn't match anything in the species database," Mako says. "No... wait." She looked up. "I couldn't swear to it, but I think it's a Dashade."

"Really?" Kaliyo stared at her. "I thought Dashades were a myth. A Sith horror story."

Zarek pointed at the holo-image. "Looks pretty real to me," he said. "Any idea who these Sith are?"

Cipher shook her head. “They’re not on the passenger manifest.”

“Must be high up the chain,” Zarek grunted. “Still, there’s no reason for there to be a problem. I’m sure they’re just headed to the capital, same as us.”

Cipher Nine agreed. Still, the presence of Sith was always cause for caution.

“The ship arrives at Dromund Kaas tomorrow,” she said. “Let’s stick to our quarters until then.”

"You're that scared of them?" Zarek said.

Kaliyo raised her hand. "I am." Zarek and Mako were clearly startled by her ready admission. "You ever work with a Sith, bounty hunter?"

He shook his head. Sith were generally both willing and able to handle their own dirty work.

“Well, I have," Kaliyo said. "What I said a minute ago, about Sith pulling your intestines out through your eyeballs? That wasn't a metaphor. I've seen it happen. You do what you want, but I'm with the boss here - I'll stay in my quarters until we're on the ground and those two are safely off the ship."

***

Aboard the _Brentaal Star_ , Sergeant Cress Va’Shann was giving up on sleep.

He had adjusted the thin foam pillow several times, but physical discomfort was not the problem. It was the eyes of the other Republic Troopers. 

When he and Lieutenant Aric Jorgan had rendezvoused with the ship, under orders to return to Coruscant immediately, the Troopers had seen the HAVOC emblem on his uniform. A week ago, that had been a source of pride. Now, it was a mark of shame.

“It’s not you they’re mad at, Sergeant,” Lt. Jorgan told him. “Everyone knows you behaved honorably. At Coruscant, they’re probably going to pin a medal on you for disabling the ZR-57. It’s just…”

“I know,” Cress said. He did know. A lot of these young men and women had become soldiers because of HAVOC Squad. His presence on the ship was a reminder of a trust betrayed. 

He slipped out of his bunk. If he couldn’t sleep, he would engage in one of the other time-honored ways to pass time. He would eat.

Jorgan was already in the break room, snacking directly from a jar of protein paste. His eyes flicked up as Cress entered.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Jorgan said.

“So are you. Sir.”

"So I am.” Jorgan offered Cress the jar.

“Spoons are over there.” He jerked his head toward a nearby cabinet.

Cress found a spoon, then took the seat opposite the lieutenant. “How long until the ship reaches Coruscant?” 

“Well, the ship seems to be in a rush,” Jorgan said. “I’d have said 0:600, Coruscant Capital Time. But we’ve deviated toward Tython, so that’ll add a few hours.”

“Tython?” Cress looked up at that. Jedi? “I’ve never seen a Jedi in person.”

Jorgan barked a short laugh. “Not much to see if the journey’s a smooth one,” he said. “Just people in robes instead of uniforms. And they’re terrible conversationalists.” 

“What if the journey isn’t smooth?”

Jorgan’s lips drew back in a grin, revealing his fangs. “If there’s trouble? Well, a Jedi in battle is like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

***

Canlyn and Ashara stood to the side as the medical team carried Yuon’s stretcher across the airlock and into the _Brentaal Star_. Once Yuon was clear, they followed.

The _Brentaal Star_ ’s First Officer was waiting for them. He offered a crisp salute as they came into view. "Lieutenant Haken," he said.

The lieutenant seemed taken aback, his eyes flicking from Canlyn to Ashara and back. Canlyn guessed he was judging their youth.

“I am a full Jedi Knight,” she assured him, “and while I have no love for combat, I have engaged in it.” She indicated Ashara. “Ashara Zavros, Padawan. She has also faced physical danger.”

Canlyn would not lie, but nothing in the Jedi Code required her to disclose all details, particularly to those not in the Order. Haken would conclude Ashara was her assigned padawan; but that was his assumption, not her deception.

Qyzen stepped through. Haken backed away at the sight of the imposing Trandoshan.

“Our friend, Qyzen Fess,” Canlyn said. “I doubt I need to speak to his abilities.”

Qyzen sniffed at Haken. He glared, settling in between him and Canlyn. As if guarding her from a potential threat.

"I-I see." Haken did not seem mollified. "Shall I take you to your quarters?"

“Let us meet your passenger,” Canlyn said. “We are here to protect him. I see no reason for delay.”

Haken led them through the ship. It was a large vessel, with winding corridors.

“It’s a _Thranta_ class corvette,” Haken told them. “A proper battleship. Crew of 300, all Republic military. Normally, we would have requested HAVOC Squad accompany us on a mission like this, but…” He trailed off.

“I saw on the holonet,” Ashara said. “I still can’t believe it. The Republic’s elite team, defecting?”

“It’s like something out of a nightmare,” Haken agreed. “The last member of HAVOC is aboard, along with his lieutenant. But two men are not a squad.”

“What can you tell us of the passenger?” Canlyn asked.

“The General?” Haken said. “We arranged to meet him just our side of the border. He took a one-man transport, barely bigger than an escape pod, to avoid detection. It was done during routine maneuvers, so even most of the crew don’t know he’s aboard. He insisted he wanted Jedi protection, but to be honest I doubt you’ll be needed.”

“Who is he?”

“SIS is mum on that, and he’ll barely talk to any of us. All we know is that he’s a bigwig in the Imperial military.”

They came to a secure bulkhead. Haken punched in a code, and it opened. 

The area on the other side was tightly guarded. Republic Troopers stood at every door, weapons at the ready. 

“He’s through here,” Haken said, indicating a door at the end of the corridor. “He’ll be pleased to see you.”

The room was dimly lit. A figure sat stiffly on a chair at the end of the room.

“Ah, my Jedi escort.” The voice was low, but cultured. “Forgive the darkness. Bright light has been unpleasant to me ever since I received my implant.”

Canlyn and Ashara stepped closer, while Qyzen stayed near the door. As she approached, Canlyn saw that “The General” was an older human. His face was grizzled and scarred, and a cybernetic implant had replaced his right eye. 

“I lost the original putting down a slave uprising on Ziost,” he explained. “It was a one-sided battle. We had tactics and artillery, they had whatever they'd been able to scavenge. But one of them got off a lucky shot.” He laughed harshly. “A bit of revenge, from one old man to another. He was killed on the spot, but maiming an Imperial general? I suspect he died happy.”

“Slavery is an abomination,” Canlyn said stiffly.

The General smiled indulgently. “Slavery is the natural order of society, my dear. In the end, we are all slaves, whether we choose to admit it or not.”

He raised his head to take in Qyzen. “How many Jagannath points have you accumulated?”

“Zero,” Qyzen grunted.

The eyebrow above The General’s eye implant rose.

“He was recently captured by an enemy,” Canlyn explained. “Evidently, that – ”

The General nodded, recognizing the significance. “Ah, yes. Total forfeiture.” He kept his eyes on Qyzen. “How about before that? I know the Scorekeeper doesn't care," he added quickly, to cut off any protest. "I ask only for my own information.”

Qyzen raised his own head high and grinned, displaying his shark-like teeth. “Many.”

“Then I am well satisfied,” the General said.

Ashara spoke, nervousness clear in her voice. “You seem to expect trouble. Why?”

“Imperial Intelligence has eyes everywhere. As cautious as we were, I still doubt my defection has gone unnoticed.”

“If the Empire sent a ship after us, that would be a clear breach of treaty,” Canlyn said.

“The Treaty of Coruscant?” The General laughed again. “It holds less power than a frightened child, crying in the dark. When the Empire is ready, tbe Treaty will be shredded like the paper it is, and the Republic will fall under the onslaught.”

Ashara scowled at this. “If you’re so sure about that, then why defect to our side?”

The General sighed wearily.

“Because I am a patriot. There are enough lunatics on both sides to see the Empire destroyed alongside your crumbling Republic. I may not be able to turn back the tide – But if you get me to the Senate, then perhaps I can delay it for a little while longer.”


	3. Assets

Cipher Nine was trying to nap her way to Dromund Kaas. Her sleep was uneasy, her anxiety over the Sith manifesting itself through nightmares in which faceless robed figures hunted her across a wasteland.

When her holocommunicator woke her, it was actually a relief.

“Cipher Nine.” Keeper’s expressionless face regarded her. “My apologies for waking you.”

She stood immediately. “Sir.”

“I fear your journey is going to be interrupted,” he said. “I just received a communication from Grand Moff Kilran.”

“The Butcher of Coruscant?” 

Kilran was infamous. He had led the military during the Sacking of Coruscant, and had encouraged maximum brutality among his soldiers. The civilian death count had earned him his nickname, one that he reportedly relished.

“Quite.” Keeper’s voice was flat, registering neither approval nor disapproval of Kilran. “He reported a situation, one that has the potential to become a crisis. I am trusting you to get it under control.”

“Yes, sir.” She waited for details.

“22 hours ago, a Republic warship cut into Imperial space. Not by much - It's the sort of intrusion we would normally ignore. But this ship brought aboard a defector. The Republic has labeled him 'The General.' He intends to divulge Imperial military secrets. _Our_ secrets.”

From Keeper’s intonation, Cipher got the impression that “our secrets” included those of not only the military, but of Imperial Intelligence as well.

“22 hours?” she asked. “Why are we only finding out now?”

“The defector hid his tracks well,” Keeper replied. “It took time to register his absence, and more time to deduce what had occurred.”

“They’ll be in Republic space by now."

“Yes, but we know their location. The ship, the _Brentaal Star_ , is en route to Coruscant. I have sent the exact flight path to your implants.” The information registered in her cybernetics even as he made the statement. “Fortunately, they deviated to Tython to take on a Jedi escort. The _Black Talon_ is a fast ship. You should be able to catch up if you leave immediately and at maximum speed."

A Republic warship. The _Black Talon_ would be hopelessly outgunned. That didn’t even take into account the Jedi.

“Take command of the ship,” Keeper told her. “Darth Zash should be receiving instructions from the Dark Council even as we speak. Defer to her, but do not waver from effectively completing the mission. Darth Jadus confirms that you will not be punished if it becomes necessary to sacrifice the two Sith to complete this mission.”

She could not fully conceal her shock at that statement.

“Just who is this traitor?” she asked.

Keeper shook his head. “Not even on a secure channel,” he said. “Your window of opportunity is brief, Cipher Nine. Go now. Keeper out.”

*******

Cipher paused to collect Zarek, Kaliyo, and Mako. She told them there was an urgent situation and that she had no time to spare for details. They would just have to catch up with the situation as it progressed.

“Be ready to back me up, OK?” she asked Zarek. 

She put a slightly winsome note into her smile, appealing to his protective instincts. His answering grunt conveyed two things: The winsomeness wasn’t fooling him in the slightest, but he was on her side.

“Within reason,” he said aloud. 

“Fair enough.”

The guards at the bridge eyed them nervously, but let them pass. Evidently, the captain had received his own orders.

Orders he plainly didn’t like.

“You must be the Intelligence operative,” he said stiffly. “I am Captain Revinal Orzik.”

“Cipher Nine,” she said. “I assume you’ve received your instructions?”

“I have,” he said. “And I respectfully refuse. The _Talon_ would be destroyed chasing a battleship.”

“Refusal is not an option,” she told him. “There are Sith aboard. They will execute you as a coward.”

“But the window for the mission will pass,” he replied. “I am not afraid to die. But I will not throw away the lives of my crew to a suicide run.”

“Want me to just shoot him?” Kaliyo asked. She sounded eager, excited at the prospect of violence.

“No.” There were too many officers on the bridge. Starting a firefight would be stupid. 

Captain Orzik was eyeing Kaliyo, his hand already inching toward his blaster. The anarchist's smirk practically dared him to draw.

Cipher stepped between them.

“Kaliyo, stand down,” she ordered. "Captain Orzik, please look at me." 

The captain turned back to Cipher. She drew herself erect, a military posture. She drew on her training to present herself as a competent officer, keeping her expression calm and confident. By reflex, she sensed Orzik relaxing slightly.

“I agree with you about suicide missions,” she told him. “I have no intention of sacrificing your ship or your crew. If we work together, we can complete this mission and come back alive."

“I expect you believe that,” Orzik replied. “I see it differently. The _Black Talon_ is primarily a transport. She’s fast, but also small and only lightly armed. The _Brentaal Star_ is a battleship. Any direct engagement would end in our destruction.”

“Agreed," she replied. "That's why we won't engage directly. We'll use deception and disruption. Look at our assets. Kaliyo here is an expert at creating chaos. Zarek knows weaponry and tactics. Mako can analyze specs on the spot. She can exploit any weak points, and given a little time will be able to hack into the other ship's systems. And there are two Sith aboard. We'll have to make a plan on the way, but we have the tools to make this work.”

Captain Orzik sighed, surrendering.

“Damn Kilran,” he muttered. “All right, Cipher Nine. We’ll give it a shot." He turned to his First Officer. "Lt. Sylas. Plot the intercept course and engage."

She obeyed promptly. In less than a minute, they were in light speed, heading for Republic territory.

Cipher glanced around. She had expected the Sith to come to the bridge as soon as their orders came through, but there was no sign of them. 

“Where are the Sith?” she asked.

Lt. Sylas answered. “Darth Zash insisted on the removal of all communications equipment from her quarters,” she said. “She insisted she was not to be disturbed.”

Cipher felt her temper rising. “Well, then," she snapped. "You knock on her door and…” The pure terror in Sylas's eyes made Cipher realize just what she was asking. She stopped herself, sighing wearily. "Tell me what rooms the Darth and her apprentice are in. I will attend to it personally."

***

Reyenna was irritated when the buzzer for her door sounded. She knew it wasn't Zash. Her Master's wintry presence was completely absent. When the buzzer sounded a second time, she determined to give her visitors the fright of their lives.

Her anger disappeared in an instant, however. She was too shocked by the face that greeted her. A young woman, about the same age as herself, with cybernetic implants that had been carefully attached so as to look almost like cosmetics. 

The face from her vision at the Sith Academy.

In the vision, the woman had worn a fine silk robe while kneeling at Reyenna’s feet. Despite her posture, her expression had been defiant. _“I will do whatever you demand, for the sake of my crew and my mission. But I refuse to be your victim, or your plaything.”_

In the present, the woman's outfit was purely functional, just jacket and trousers. Her expression was neutral, though she was clearly alert for any sign of trouble. She glanced warily at Khem Val, who stood impassively at the center of the room, as he had done since arriving on the ship.

“Is this food?” Khem rumbled.

“I don’t think so,” Reyenna smiled back at her visitor. “Are you food? Khem is quite hungry, so I hope you have a good reason for coming to me.”

“I am Cipher Nine of Imperial Intelligence,” the woman said. “You’re Darth Zash’s apprentice, right?”

“I am.”

Reyenna continued to stare at Cipher. The agent reacted with a look of mixed confusion and apprehension.

“Is something the matter?" Cipher asked. "I don’t believe we’ve met, but you’re acting as if you recognize me.”

Observant, Reyenna noted. She played it off with the flippancy that had served her so well at the Academy. 

"I expect you just have one of those faces," she said. "Bland and ordinary."

"Yes," Cipher said, her voice still wary. "I expect that must be it." 

Reyenna extended her hand, introduced herself. Cipher shook it. Her grip was firm. No hint of weakness.

“Darth Zash has asked not to be disturbed,” Cipher said. “But we have an urgent situation, and her participation is needed.”

Reyenna smiled humorlessly. “So you want me to knock on her door. To keep her from ripping your skin off out of pique?"

Cipher responded with a smile of her own. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble... Yes.”

“No trouble at all. I was getting bored anyway.”

***

“Hey, this is it!”

Arkarix Krell had been following Vette through the Tomb of Tulak Hord for roughly an hour, and he had stopped paying attention to her. His mind was consumed by his final conversation with Reyenna. He kept rerunning it, trying to decipher the meaning of her strange mood. Had the slave simply been a reminder of her own past? Would her mood be better when they saw each other again on Dromund Kaas? Or perhaps she had simply tired of him. 

Vette’s voice snapped him back to the reality of the Tomb. They were in an alcove, with two statues standing before what looked like solid wall. The statues looked the same as any number of others they had passed, and he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“The secret entrance to the cavern is right here,” Vette said. Then she frowned at him. “Are you all right?”

He grimaced. Even the slave could see his mind wasn’t fully on his Trial.

“Do I look unwell?” he snapped, moving a finger toward the control for her shock collar.

“OK, OK!” She raised her hands to forestall him. “Sorry I asked.”

“Where is the entrance?” he demanded.

“Just let me get by bearings.”

Vette started to look around the Tomb walls and statues, mentally recreating her first trip here. Krell leaned against the opposite wall, ostensibly supervising. But his thoughts turned back to Reyenna. He would be on Dromund Kaas soon. Should he look her up, or would it be better to keep his distance?

He felt the enemy’s approach an instant before the blow fell. Had he been mindful of his Trial, he would have had enough warning to turn, to defend himself. But his distraction had cost him greatly. He was able to shift enough to avoid a fatal impact – but it was enough to send him to the Tomb’s stone floor.

“You catch your bearings, slave.” A mocking voice from above. Krell struggled to move, willed his hand toward his lightsaber. His limbs were uncooperative.

A young acolyte’s scarred face came into view, leering down at him. 

“I am Vemrin,” he said scornfully. “It’s only fitting you know the name of your executioner. I have fought for every scrap of recognition, while you’ve been gifted the top spot. That ends today.” 

Vemrin raised his blade. “I will claim all that is yours, Arkarix Krell. Your place at Baras’s side. Your future in the Empire. Even your pretty blue slave.”

Krell tried to direct a Force blast at Vemrin, but his mind was too scattered from the blow. The acolyte’s blade began its descent, and he could not stop it.

Then Vemrin grunted with pain and surprise. He staggered.

Vette held a skull in her hands. The skull that had struck Krell's attacker on the back of his own head. Her strength hadn’t been sufficient to fell him, but it had robbed him of his focus.

Vemrin glared at Vette. He held up one hand. Vette grabbed her throat, struggling for breath.

“I will not kill you, slave,” he sneered. “I still need you, to open the cave you two were discussing. But I promise, you will pay dearly for your insolence.”

The distraction was enough. Krell felt his mind snap back into focus. His muscles were again responding.

He raised a hand and tried again to direct a Force blast at Vemrin. This time, the effort succeeded. His rival was thrown against a wall.

Vemrin’s blade dropped as he crumpled. He reached for the blade. Krell lifted it with his mind, brought it to his hand instead of its owner's. Vemrin shot lightning at him. Krell batted the bolts away with the acolyte's own weapon.

He stood over Vemrin, glaring down at him.

“You believe you could replace me?” Krell spat. “Look at me, Acolyte. Look at me!”

Vemrin moved backward. Krell allowed him to do this, advancing even as the young man attempted to flee. Vemrin tried to rise. Krell pushed him back down with a wall of air.

“I am the very essence of Sith,” Krell declared. “You feel resentment toward me? Resentment is a coward’s emotion. _I feel rage!_ ”

He used the Force to lift Vemrin from the ground like a rag doll. He slammed the acolyte against the Tomb’s ceiling, then let him drop again to the ground.

Vemrin rasped his breaths around bruised and broken ribs.

“Think on this as you die, worm,” Krell said. “Killing you was easy.”

Krell struck downward with all his strength, skewering the acolyte who had thought himself suitable to be a rival. The killing blow only increased his fury. Vette turned her head away, closing her eyes tightly as he brought the blade down a second time, then a third, until Vemrin's skull had been completely pulverized.

Krell glared at her. Rage and bloodlust shot through his veins. It was a physical effort not to attack her, as well.

"We've waited enough," he rasped. "Open the cavern!"

Vette scampered to a wall directly behind a statue. She pressed at the wall, then twice at a place on the statue’s back, then at the wall three more times.

A panel slid back, opening the secret entrance.

The bloodlust faded. Krell felt his mind grow calm, controlled. As they moved into the cave, he asked Vette one question.

“Why did you do it? I doubt it’s out of any personal regard for me.”

She hesitated, clearly not wanting to speak. For the first time since they met, he could feel fear from her. Fear of him.

“It was the best of bad choices,” she said. “Remember what the jailer said? The collar explodes if you die."

"The control device reads life signs," he said dismissively. "As long as he put it on his own wrist, you'd have been fine."

She chewed on her lip, shifting her balance back and forth. "He... seemed worse than you. A lot worse."

Krell felt his lips draw back in an expression he knew would not comfort her. “Very wise,” he said. “But suppose he had been a Jedi, who would have set you free?”

She fingered her collar nervously. “I’d have probably helped him,” she admitted. She closed her eyes, clearly expecting punishment.

Krell laughed. “Also wise,” he said. “But, Vette. If you ever do turn on me? Be certain that you succeed.”


	4. "Better to Be My Servant Than My Enemy"

There was no light in the hidden tunnel, but Krell had brought lightpods, which allowed some dim illumination. No other acolytes had found the secret entrance, and the scavengers were too fearful of him and Vette to pose a threat.

The tunnel opened out onto a large chamber. Statues lines the walls, acting as an honor guard to the approach to a stone sarcophagus. The sarcophagus was flanked by sculptures that resembled marble torches, and a giant statue of a Sith Lord loomed over all of it.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask what my destination is,” Krell observed drily. “Approach the sarcophagus, Vette.”

“Why me?”

“Because I’m the Sith, and you’re the slave. Don’t worry – If a trap springs, I will rescue you.”

“What if the trap’s fatal?”

“Then I will miss your sparkling personality.”

Krell stood against the back wall, watching Vette walk nervously down the rows of stone guards. As she neared the sarcophagus, the torches lit up with a red glow. The chamber was bathed in crimson.

Vette hesitated, glanced back at Krell. He nodded to her. She closed her eyes, drew in a breath, and took the last step.

Nothing happened. The floor didn’t open. No spikes shot out from the walls. The air remained breathable.

Vette examined the sarcophagus. Runes were engraves around its circumference. She could not decipher them, but she sensed something dark and malevolent about them.

“Open it.” A note of impatience in Krell’s voice.

“Shock me if you want,” she snapped. “I’m going to at least look for a trap before I start touching things!”

No shock came. Apparently, he had judged her protest to be reasonable.

“Ten minutes,” he said. “No more than that unless you see something.”

She used every second of her ten minutes. She circled the sarcophagus, examining it with a trained eye. The sarcophagus, the stone torches, the statue, and the surrounding floor and wall. She hunted for some telltale break in the rock, or a glint of metal.

She saw nothing.

"Time's up," Krell announced.

“Five more minutes?” she begged. He didn’t speak, but his posture was set and firm. If there was a trap she had not seen, then she would have to hope it didn’t kill her.

She reached for the sarcophagus. When her hand made contact, she felt a shock. She drew back.

“I need a tool,” she said.

Krell approached and handed her a prybar.

“That’s metal, and that lid just shocked me. I need something that isn’t a conductor.”

He hesitated, then shrugged off his robe and handed it to her. Without it, in short-sleeved tunic and trousers, Vette could see how defined his arm muscles were. She idly reflected that his Sith girlfriend had probably enjoyed their time together.

“Sorry for this,” she said, covering the prybar with the robe.

She touched the lid with the covered tool. Nothing happened. She forced the end of the prybar under the lid. It slipped under the robe. She tried again. This time, it gained purchase, but she could not budge it. Krell joined her, adding his strength to hers. The lid still did not move.

Vette slipped, reflexively catching herself on the stone surface.

The shock knocked her back on her rear, crying out in pain. That had been much worse than the first one. Worse than the shocks the jailer had given her through the collar.

“I’m not touching that again,” she said firmly. If the shocks continue to grow in intensity, the next one might kill her.

“You don’t need to,” Krell replied. “I think I know what this is.”

He raised a hand over the sarcophagus. He focused his mind. _I am Sith_. He flicked his hand hard to the right.

The lid blew away, smashing against the torch sculpture. Breaking it.

Krell activated another lightpod as he peered into the coffin. Inside was a skeleton. A powerful Sith Lord in his day. Now just bone and dust, as insignificant as any other corpse.

The pommel of a lightsaber was grasped in the skeleton's hand. Krell did not reach in. Instead, he pulled at it with his mind. The lightsaber pushed against the bones of the hand. He yanked harder.

The bones shattered into dust as the weapon shot into his grasp. As his hand closed around it, he activated the blade.

It was pure black. It let off a high-pitched wail as he swung it experimentally. Vette winced at the sound, but he continued taking practice swings. The air around him chilled, as if it was being infused with ice.

He removed his warblade. Vette shrunk back to the far wall, as far away from him as was possible as he swung both weapons in wide arcs. He brought them together, the red blade and the black, toppling the stone statues surrounding him. Then he drew the weapons over his head, letting the red and black connect.

The red blade seemed to draw back for an instant, as if recognizing that its power was no match for the black's. Then it surged to life, expanding as the two lightsabers seemed almost to commune: the red blade promising to serve, the dark one promising that its appetite for blood would soon be sated.

Krell deactivated the weapons, contemplating as he put them into place in his belt. He now had power. Would he truly turn it over to Baras?

If Baras demanded it, yes. The new lightsaber was powerful – But it would not, on its own, make him a match for his new Master. Still, he would try to gain permission to keep it. He believed he would succeed. The blade felt as though it belonged with him.

He extended a hand to Vette, who watched wordlessly from the far wall.

“Better to be my servant than my enemy,” he said.

Vette hesitated. The anxiety was written clearly across her face. But her situation was the same as it had been - There was no good option.

She took his hand and, together, they turned back to the tunnel.

***

They gathered on the bridge of the _Black Talon_ : Cipher Nine and Kaliyo; Zarek and Mako; Darth Zash and her apprentice, Reyenna; Captain Orzik and Lt. Sylas. The creature, Khem Val, had stayed in Reyenna's quarters. "Khem's not much for planning," Reyenna whispered conspiratorially. "When we're ready, we'll just point him at whomever he's supposed to eat."

Mako projected a readout of the Republic battleship, the _Brentaal Star_ , which they all studied as they prepared their plan of attack.

“I hacked into the Republic military,” she explained. “It wasn’t easy, but I was able to crack their firewalls and…” An impatient glance from Darth Zash. “Never mind,” Mako said hurriedly. “This is the official design blueprint.”

Zarek cleared his throat. “First question. Can we breach?”

Kaliyo grinned. “We’ll breach,” she promised. “l can pack a shuttle with enough explosives to blow a hole in a planet.”

Cipher Nine shook her head. "That might be counterproductive," she pointed out. "We're authorized to kill The General if we have to, but Moff Kilran prefers we bring him back alive. Let's avoid blowing holes in the hull unless we have to."

“You suck all the fun out of life,” Kaliyo complained.

Cipher studied the readout, using her implants to flick from one feature of the ship to another. "My first choice would be to go in through the shuttle bay," she said. "No need to blow a hole to board, and it gives us a position we can hold and fall back to."

“Still have to blow a hole through the shielding,” Zarek grunted. 

Captain Orzik agreed. "If anything, as a natural breach, the shuttle bay will be even more reinforced than the hull. Better to blow a hole near the bridge, send a fire team through with jet packs to secure it long enough to board."

Cipher shook her head. "If the Republic rallies quickly enough, they could wipe that fire team out and pick us off on our way in. We'll do that if we have to. But I think I have a plan to get us through the shuttle bay."

"Why not do both?" Mako asked. Orzik and Cipher stared at her. "Take the shuttle bay and blow a hole? Wouldn't that throw them completely off their game?"

Orzik smiled indulgently. "It definitely would, if we had the manpower," he said. "Remember, they have 300 Troopers. We have less than 50. Splitting our force is not an option."

“Next question,” Zarek said. “Do we have any idea where to find this ‘General’ of yours?”

“We received a narrow-band transmission from our asset on the Republic ship,” Cipher said. “The General is near the escape pods. In an emergency, he can evacuate, and we have to assume more Republic ships are already on the way. That means we have to move fast.”

She pointed to the shuttle bay on the diagram.

“Kaliyo, can you rig a shuttle with enough explosives to clear the shuttle bay without destroying it?” she asked.

“Tricky,” Kaliyo mused. “The explosion’s no problem. But if I keep it small enough to make sure the structure holds, then there won’t be a 100% kill count.”

“How about making it smoky?" Cipher suggested. "Can you leave the survivors with no visibility?"

“No problem. The blast will also disrupt heat sensors. It'll only be effective for a few minutes, though."

Cipher nodded, satisfied. “Long enough for our team to land,” she said. “So Step One: Clear the shuttle bay. A small force, say a dozen men, dig in to hold it. Step Two: Zarek and Kaliyo lead our troops to the bridge to seize the ship. At the same time, the Sith and I will head toward the escape pods for the traitor.”

“Suicide,” Zarek said instantly. “Even with Sith, the Republic will overrun us with sheer numbers.” 

"They'll barely have to," Orzik added. "The instant trouble starts, the Republic can initiate a security lockdown from the bridge. Impenetrable energy shields will block us from going anywhere."

“That's Step Three,” Cipher said. “Our asset will create an apparent malfunction in the lockdown system. The shields will stay down until we take the bridge. Then our asset will bring the shields up, keeping most of the Republic forces safely on the other side. Once we have the bridge, the fighting effectively ends."

"They'll find a way to bring those shields down," Zarek warned.

"Eventually, of course they will. But it buys time for my team to reach The General. Once the shields fall, you pull back to the shuttle. We'll join you if we can. If they get the shields down faster than anticipated, we'll steer an escape pod toward the _Talon_ , and Captain Orzik will pick us up."

Orzik took a second to mentally review, then nodded. "Feasible," he said. "There's still a lot that can go wrong, and the casualties just taking the bridge will be high."

"I know," Cipher said sympathetically. "This kind of assault really needed weeks of planning. We've had to make due with a few hours. It should allow a solid chance of success, though."

"I'll do my best to keep most of the casualties on their side," Zarek promised. "I think Kaliyo can help with that."

Kaliyo grinned. "Oh, I definitely can."

"What's your route to the escape pods?" Orzik asked.

Mako shifted the holo image to enlarge the ventilation system. “Here,” she said. “Cipher and Reyenna are both small enough to get through, and the system bypasses both Republic troops and lockdown shields all the way to the aft cargo bay."

"I will be a less comfortable fit in a ventilation duct," Zash observed. "So I'll stay here to monitor the operation with Mako and Captain Orzik. If there are no objections?"

Zash's expression dared anyone to voice an argument. No one was foolish enough to challenge her.

“Besides,” Zash said, "It will be a good test of my new apprentice's abilities. What do you think, Reyenna? Are you up to the task?"

Reyenna gave an elaborate bow in reply. “Murder and mayhem await,” she said.

Cipher broached a delicate subject.

"Khem Val will not fit in a ventilation duct," she said. "But he could be a fearsome asset to the bridge assault. Will he accept Zarek's orders?"

“Khem will do whatever I tell him to,” Reyenna said confidently. "Maybe if he eats enough Republic soldiers, he'll stop complaining for a little while."

Cipher did her best to avoid the mental image of the monster devouring anyone, friend or foe.

"Then we're agreed," she said.

"Just one more thing, dear," Zash interjected. "We don't want you in Republic hands any more than The General. If you appear likely to be captured, be sure to kill yourself. If the Republic gets their hands on you, then I'll have to come after you. And then... Well, ordering my apprentice to feed you to Khem Val is what I’ll do if I’m in a particularly _good_ mood.”

***

The _Brentaal Star_ was just over six hours from Coruscant when Canlyn was asked to come to the bridge. When she protested that her order obliged her to remain where she was, she was told the request came directly from the captain.

The man calling himself The General looked up calmly from his bunk. “Something has happened,” he said. “I hope you are ready for it.”

Canlyn held her lightsaber out to Ashara, who looked at it with astonishment.

“I can’t accept that!” she protested.

“If anyone comes for him, you'll need it,” Canlyn said. “His safety is our primary mission, Ashara. I’m trusting you to protect him.”

Ashara took the blade, somewhat reluctantly. “Get back here fast, OK?” 

“As fast as I’m able.”

When Canlyn and Qyzen reached the bridge, they were greeted by a buzz of activity. Lt. Haken approached, a semi-apologetic look on his face.

“An Imperial ship is closing on us,” he explained.

“So The General was right about pursuit."

“If you can call it that.” He shrugged. “It’s a Gage-class ship, a transport. The Empire must be desperate to send that after us. We’re making all stations combat ready, but if there’s an engagement it’ll be a short one. Excuse me.” He rushed off to consult with the tactical officer.

A sense of foreboding overcame Canlyn. Was she sensing something? Or was it simple anxiety?

A holo image showed the Imperial transport. It was clearly a much smaller vessel, but it approached rapidly. She reached out with her senses.

Her probe was greeted with the sense of cold, detached power. She had the impression of being seen, studied. The reaction she felt was one of amusement.

She moved immediately to the captain.

“Master Jedi,” he said, inclining his head. 

“Captain. Has anyone contacted the Jedi Council?”

The captain shook his head. “There's been no time. Why?”

When she answered, she kept her voice low, so that only he would hear.

“I believe there is a Sith aboard that ship.”

The captain’s eyes widened slightly, but he maintained his self-control. “Please don't tell anyone else,” he said. “I will contact the Jedi immediately.”

He raised his voice. “Lieutenant Haken. I have an urgent transmission to make in my ready room. You have the bridge!”

As the captain withdrew and Haken moved to the central station, Canlyn turned back to the holo image. As she studied the approaching transport, her sense of dread grew stronger.


	5. The Winning Side

Canlyn did as the captain requested, and kept silent about her fears of a Sith presence. Even so, unease spread among the bridge crew, who increasingly stared at the image of the Imperial transport. The small ship seemed to hang in space, waiting with the patience of a predator.

The captain was trying to communicate with the other ship.

“Imperial transport, this is Captain Mettis of the _Brentaal Star_. You are in Republic space, in violation of treaty. If you require assistance, please respond. If your systems are functional, please leave this space immediately.”

He waited several seconds, then repeated his message verbatim.

Finally, the bridge’s holocommunicator activated. A middle-aged Imperial officer appeared.

“ _Brentaal Star,_ this is Captain Orzik of the _Black Talon_. I apologize for the intrusion into your space. Our ship suffered a catastrophic failure of its light speed systems, and we’ve only just gotten the situation under control.” The captain smiled wearily. “Truth be told, it’s rather good luck that we didn’t crash into an asteroid or a sun.” 

Canlyn felt the members of the bridge crew relax. This made more sense to them. After all, a tiny transport like this couldn’t possibly have planned to take on a Republic battleship.

But most of the bridge crew didn’t know about The General. 

“Soft things are foolish,” Qyzen whispered to her. “Smart hunter knows how to make himself look harmless. Imperials are very smart hunters.”

Captain Mettis had not relaxed, but he was playing along with the Imperial’s bluff. Canlyn sensed Mettis’ wariness, but also his hope - that maybe the Imperial was telling the truth, that perhaps they would avoid a conflict. 

“Do you require assistance?” Mettis asked.

“We could use some replacement parts for our light speed engines,” Orzik said. “Several connections burned out, and our chief engineer had to sever another just to get us out of light speed.”

“Let us know what you need,” Mettis said. "We'll see what we can spare.”

“May I send our chief engineer to you?” Orzik asked. “He will stay in the docking area, and he understands that it will be under guard. Still, it will be far easier for him to communicate his needs on site.”

Mettis considered. “Allow me to confer with my officers." He broke the connection.

He glanced at Canlyn, who shook her head. “I advise against it,” she said. It was too obviously a trap.

“I disagree,” Lt. Haken said. “Captain, it’s only one shuttle – Even if they sneak a military force aboard, we can have troops standing by at the shuttle bay. Our numbers would nullify any threat. And if their situation is real, then this could turn out to be a diplomatic breakthrough.”

Mettis mulled it over, nodded.

“Thank you, Jedi. Thank you, Haken.” He turned back to the communicator. “Captain Orzik, your engineer may board. Please have him plot a direct course to our shuttle bay.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Orzik acknowledged. “In these strained times, it is refreshing to meet a reasonable man.”

The connection closed down.

“I’m going to the shuttle bay,” Canlyn announced.

“I come too,” Qyzen said.

“No.” Canlyn placed a hand on his forearm. “Go back to Ashara, help her with her task.” Guarding The General. “Please, my friend. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Qyzen inclined his head. “It will be as you say, Herald.”

Captain Mettis stepped forward. “I will join you in the shuttle bay, Jedi,” he said. “Haken, initiate a security lockdown the second that shuttle lands. If this is a trap, we're not going to be caught napping.”

***

Canlyn stood beside Captain Mettis in the shuttle bay. A holo projection tracked the path of the Imperial shuttle. A woman’s voice came through the communicator.

“ _Brentaal Star_ , this is Imperial shuttle. We’re starting out approach.”

Canlyn, Mettis, and a guard of Republic troops watched the shuttle's approach. 

“If their intentions are genuine, this could be an historic day,” Mettis whispered.

Canlyn agreed with his statement. She just wished she believed that the Imperials’ intentions were real.

Two Troopers in full gear appeared at the opposite end of the shuttle bay. A Cathar lieutenant and a Twi’lek sergeant. The Twi’lek’s armor included a “HAVOC” decal. The lieutenant’s eyes met hers. His face seemed set in a permanently cynical expression, but she saw a hint of something soften in him – that certain feeling that comes from seeing your own kind in a position of authority. Though Canlyn had been with the Jedi for as long as she could remember, she recognized the same reaction in herself.

“What is that ship doing?” Mettis asked.

Canlyn turned, not to the holo image, but to the opening of the shuttle bay. The approaching ship was no longer moving slowly. It was picking up speed. 

On a ramming course.

Canlyn slammed her fist on the wall communicator.

“This is Canlyn Dessan of the Jedi. All hands, brace for impact. All soldiers, prepare to defend the bridge!”

***

The impact was felt throughout the Republic ship. Screams of men and metal melded into a ghastly cacophony. 

The blast had knocked the air out of Canlyn’s lungs. Shrapnel embedded in her fur, and she felt pain at the back of her left leg. Luckily, she had been facing away from the explosion, or her injuries would have been severe.

She turned to Captain Mettis. He was collapsed on the floor, moaning, hands covering his eyes.

Canlyn checked her leg. A sharp piece of metal stuck into the calf. She pulled it out, then tore off a piece of her robe to wrap it tightly. She knelt beside him, gently but firmly pulling his hands away from his face.

The skin around his eyes was heavily burned. His eyes were intact, but milky and unfocused.

“I’m blind,” Mettis confirmed. He took a ragged breath, doing his best to suppress his own pain. “They’ll be boarding,” he said. “The men need to regroup, defend. Is that lockdown up yet?”

The air was filled with smoke and particulates, making it impossible to see. Canlyn reached out with her mind, probing for survivors. Many soldiers were alive. Some were injured, all were confused as they stumbled blindly through the debris.

After Canlyn summarized the situation, Mettis replied with brisk authority. "We need to evacuate the shuttle bay," he said. "And I need to talk to the bridge. Are those shields up?"

"I don't think so," Canlyn said. She could sense the passageways to both the bridge on one side and Engineering on the other. She sensed no shield in either direction.

She pressed the wall communicator, but it did not respond. Knocked out by the explosion. She reached for her wrist communicator. It was gone.

"Help me up," Mettis said. He gasped with pain as she helped him to his feet. "We need to head to Engineering. We can communicate with the rest of the ship from there - Get soldiers to reinforce all areas."

Canlyn supported him and began moving through the smoke, using her Force senses to pick her way through the wreckage.

***

Lt. Haken kept order on the bridge. Troopers were already reinforcing the approach to the bridge, and reports from every section confirmed that the real damage was confined to the shuttle bay.

"Target that ship and fire at will," he ordered. But the _Black Talon_ had moved off at its top sub-light speed. It was already out of range.

"Initiating lockdown," Haken said. He keyed in the sequence to raise the internal shields.

Nothing happened.

He keyed the sequence again, this time taking care to press one key at a time, so that no misread could occur.

Again, no response.

Lt. Cariss, the communications officer, stared in disbelief.

"The lockdown's off-line?" she gasped.

He nodded confirmation. "Open a channel to both Coruscant and the Jedi Council," he told her. "Protocol requires we request immediate reinforcements." Then he smiled at her. "I wouldn't worry. The Imperials may have landed the first punch, but we are still a battleship and they are still a transport. All of the math is on our side."

***

Cress had acted on instinct. As soon as he saw the Imperial shuttle accelerate, he had grabbed Jorgan and yanked him to the floor.

A good thing. A second later, both fire and metal flew over their heads. Had they remained standing, they would have both been killed.

Whatever the shuttle had been packed with created heavy smoke, eliminating all visibility. Fortunately, Cress and Jorgan had arrived late and were standing near the entrance to the corridor. There was no lack of smoke around them, but they could see the corridor.

Jorgan had a line in his pack. He attached it to himself, then passed the other end to Cress. The sergeant attached it to his belt. Jorgan stayed at the hall as an anchor, while Cress followed the sounds of moans and cries. 

Over the next two minutes, Cress gathered about a dozen men who were still capable of fighting. Between them, they retrieved another half dozen wounded. Cress was preparing to go back in when a young Cathar in Jedi robes came through the smoke. She had the ship's captain with her.

“Engineering,” the Jedi gasped. “The captain says we must get to Engineering.”

“There are still men in there,” Cress protested. “We can’t just leave them to – ”

The Jedi held up a hand. She cocked her head, listening. "More shuttles," she announced.

Jorgan didn’t hesitate. “Time's up!” he barked to the men. “Those who can walk, help those who can’t. We need to clear this area _now_!”

The group had only barely reached the lift when they heard the Imperial shuttles land. As they jammed into the elevator, Cress heard the sounds of blaster fire from the shuttle bay. A few scattered blasts of return fire were quickly silenced. Those they hadn't managed to rescue were now dead.

Under the circumstances, they had no choice. But as the doors to the lift closed, Cress couldn’t shake the feeling that he was running away.

***

So far, Zarek reflected, the plan had gone better than he had anticipated. The Republic had been caught completely off-guard, and the ships carrying the boarding party had landed easily. Breather masks allowed them to avoid inhaling the smoke in the shuttle bay, and the groans from lost and wounded Republic troops served only to make them target practice for the Imperial soldiers. The few half-hearted bursts of return fire hadn't felled a single Imperial, and it was not long before the Republic was cleared out entirely.

"Not much honor is gunning down the wounded," Mako complained through Zarek's earpiece.

Zarek took a more pragmatic view. "The dead can't regroup and come at us from behind, or cut us off from our escape," he pointed out. She didn't argue, but her silence told him that she didn't approve either.

Mako directed them toward the nearest ventilation grate, where Cipher and Reyenna took their leave.

“Resistance will be heaviest outside the bridge,” Cipher reminded him. “Our asset won't reveal himself until you break through - but once you're on the bridge, the fight should be over. Then just get the lockdown in place and hold the bridge until either I signal you or the shields fall.”

“I know the plan,” Zarek said. “You take care of yourself, OK? Watch your back.” His eyes flicked to Reyenna as he voiced this.

Cipher gave a tight smile, signaling her understanding and agreement. "I always do."

***

The Republic forces fell back as they approached, evidently consolidating to present the strongest defense at the crucial point. They didn't hide what they were doing - They just kept moving back as the Imperials approached.

That made Zarek suspicious. "If I was in charge of their defense," he whispered to Kaliyo, "I would have some men hide in those side rooms. Just a couple in each room. Then, when the firefight starts, they'd group up behind us and squeeze."

"I've got just the thing," Kaliyo replied. "Keep everyone back. Oh, and you might want to cover your eyes."

She drew what looked like small golden ball out of her pack. She threw it into the center of the room. Tiny golden flecks burst out of the ball. The flecks bounced off the walls and floor, like a child's toy might. But each time a golden fleck encountered a surface with nothing behind it - doors to conference rooms, restrooms, and storage lockers - it attached.

Zarek passed the order down the line for everyone to cover their eyes. As the last golden speck found its target, there was a high-pitched whine that rose rapidly. 

Even through closed eyes, Zarek sensed the flash. He heard screams of agony. When he opened his eyes, he saw burned corpses on the ground. Many were still aflame - white flames, reducing the bodies to charred husks literally as the Imperials watched.

Khem Val stepped forward, sniffing at the air. 

"Efficient," he congratulated Kaliyo.

"We aim to please."

Kaliyo repeated the trick twice more before the reached the bridge. A small number of Republic troops were flushed out the second time. The third time, no one was there - The screams of the dying must have spooked them out of that plan.

The Republic forces did not budge as they approached the bridge, however. A large force massed by the critical door, with still more troopers perched in doorways. They had effectively turned the final corridor into a death box.

Zarek had been prepared for this. He nodded to Kaliyo, who flung what looked like a silver thermos with all her strength. The highly-trained Republic sharpshooters fired on the object, hitting it mid-air.

Exactly as Zarek had expected. The instant Kaliyo made her throw, the Imperials hit the floor as a single unit. When the Republic blaster connected with the bomb, the explosion was intense. Zarek could feel the heat from the opposite end of the corridor. Many of the Republic troops stationed in doorways never even managed to scream.

“Forward!” Zarek shouted. 

The front row of Imperials rose to one knee, firing immediately. Before the Republic troops had a chance to regroup, the remainder had found their feet and charged.

In an Imperial holovid, the Republic defense would have crumbled into chaos at this point. In reality, the troopers' drills and training kicked in. They regrouped quickly, and soon were concentrating fire on the charging Imperials. Without Kaliyo's bomb, they could have picked off hundreds of troops without any of them reaching the bridge.

But the explosion had purchased precious seconds, enough for many Imperials to close the gap. The fighting turned from blasters to more primitive tools, like knives and even fists.

Even so, the Republic outnumbered them. All else equal, Zarek thought it was likely they would have been pushed back.

But no amount of training could have prepared the Republic soldiers for Khem Val. The Dashade emerged from the smoke of the explosion like a demon from hell. As he bared his fangs, several soldiers shrunk back.

“Please…” one young man whimpered.

Khem impaled the trooper with the talons of his right hand, lifting him from the ground. Khem’s maw opened wide, and his fangs descended. A second later, the young man's body hung limp.

“Fire!” a Republic officer shouted. All fire concentrated on the monster. 

Khem was staggered by the blaster bolts, but between his armor and his own tough hide, he was not felled by them. Meanwhile, the Republic troops were so shocked by the monster, they forgot about the men. The Imperial troops were able to close in on them from behind.

Caught between the ravenous monster and the increasingly determined Imperial assault, the Republic troops wilted. Several threw down their weapons, crying out to surrender.

"Cease fire!" Zarek barked.

Khem had a young woman pinned against the wall. His maw was open, fangs exposed.

“I said stop, Khem,” Zarek repeated. “No more meals unless someone misbehaves.”

Khem growled, his reptilian eyes flashing with anger. But after a moment, he released his hostage. “I must obey,” he grumbled.

Zarek looked around for the Imperial lieutenant. He had fallen to a Republic blaster. Zarek picked a soldier at random.

“Collect their weapons,” he ordered. “Keep them under guard.”

He turned to address the Republic prisoners.

“Stay down and cause no trouble, and you’ll be fine. If you decide to be a hero, you won't be killed. Instead, these soldiers will shoot you in the leg and throw you onto the bridge for Khem."

All eyes turned to the Dashade, who grinned ravenously.

“I don’t think there will be any escape attempts,” Kaliyo whispered. Zarek was inclined to agree.

***

The sight of Khem was enough to quell any thoughts of resistance on the bridge. The command crew just stared dully at the invaders, perfect portraits of defeat.

“Who’s in charge here?” Zarek asked.

A man stepped forward. “Lieutenant Clovis Haken,” he said. "You have our surrender."

Zarek grunted. “Good. Now, set up a lockdown, leaving out shields… Which shields, Mako?”

Mako’s voice came through his earpiece. “Leave open Sector H, Shield 7-G. Sector H, Shield 9-Alpha-Omega. And Shields 14 Bravo-Echo in Sections I – J. That should keep the path clear.”

Cipher Nine’s voice chimed in. “I’ll let you know if we need any others dropped when we get to them.”

As Zarek relayed the information to Haken, the communications officer looked on with confusion.

“The lockdown system is malfunctioning,” she said. “You wouldn’t have been able to access the bridge…”

She trailed off, eyes widening with realization.

Haken turned to her. “My apologies, Cariss. The lockdown system is fully functional.”

Cariss’s face darkened. “Traitor,” she hissed.

“A war is coming," Haken replied. "If HAVOC Squad sees the Empire as the winning side, then who am I to argue?”

Haken approached the captain’s chair and keyed in a sequence. “Lockdown initiated,” he announced. “Lowering the specified shields. Your people will have a clear path to The General."

***

“Engineering should be around the next corner," Captain Mettis gasped.

Canlyn was too focused on simply supporting him to respond. Jedi are trained to persevere in the face of physical strain, but that does not make them immune to it. Mettis was not a small man, and her muscles protested at his weight.

Aric Jorgan, the Cathar lieutenant, saw her struggle, and offered to take over. She accepted gratefully. 

Their progress was slower than it might have been, constrained by the wounded soldiers they had rescued. Cress Va’Shann kept to the rear, watching to make sure no Imperials were following.

"They must have gone straight to the bridge," Cress said. Still, he remained watchful.

The blind captain had them read the wall markings off to him at each junction.

“Engineering should be around the next corner,” he said. “The bridge should hold, but we need to hurry.”

They rounded the corner to Engineering, only to come to an immediate halt.

A humming, red-tinted sheet of energy separated them from their goal. It was transparent, and the Engineering crew was visible on the other side. They called out to Mettis, to the troops, to the Jedi. But though both sides could see and here, they could not reach each other.

The lockdown had been initiated – just in time for the ship’s own systems to be used against them.


	6. The Price of Duty

Mako was nervous.

Though the mission was going almost perfectly, Darth Zash paced the bridge like an angry specter, her glare moving from the holo image of the _Brentaal Star_ to the various members of the crew. Almost as if she was deciding which potential victim might entertain her the most.

It was almost a relief when the Republic signal came through.

“A Republic transmission,” Mako announced. “Long range, not from the _Brentaal Star_.”

Zash’s eyes narrowed. “Put it through.”

The image of the _Brentaal Star_ was replaced by that of a fortyish human woman in a Jedi robe.

“This is Jedi Grandmaster Satele Shan hailing unidentified Imperial vessel. I am en route to your location with sixteen Republic battle cruisers. I am asking you to retreat before more lives are lost.”

Captain Orzik looked anxious, but the Sith Lord seemed enervated. Zash was beaming like a schoolgirl as she stepped into view.

“The Jedi Grandmaster,” she said. “I am honored. I am Darth Zash, representing Moff Kilran in this matter. We will not retreat.”

The Jedi clearly recognized at least one of the names Zash mentioned. From her reaction, Mako gathered that she took no comfort in the information.

“The _Brentaal Star_ is under my protection,” Satele said. “This unprovoked ambush in Republic space is a gross treaty violation – ”

“Unprovoked ambush?” Zash laughed. “Gross treaty violation? Your _Brentaal Star_ made an unprovoked intrusion into Imperial space. Your forces took a high-ranking Imperial officer as hostage. The Republic instigated this incident. We’re just taking back what is ours.”

“I won’t banter with you." Satele spoke firmly, her jaw set. “My forces are closing on your position. We should be ready to engage within the next half hour. I have no wish to destroy you. The peace between our governments is fragile enough already.”

Zash’s smile grew thin and cruel, in a way that made Mako shiver just watching her.

“Yes, it is fragile,” Zash agreed. “Fragile enough to be crushed like glass.”

The Jedi responded not with anger, but with a mournful weariness.

“Your base aggression serves no one, Sith, not even your Empire. I implore you to preserve the peace. Leave the _Brentaal Star_ to me. If you don’t, then may the Force be with you – because the men and women aboard that ship will hold you off until we arrive, and you will be defeated.”

Zash’s grin broadened. “I’m afraid I have bad news for you, my dear,” she said brightly. “You said you were thirty minutes away? We'll be gone long before you get here. You see, the _Brentaal Star_ is already mine.” Her eyes flicked to Mako. “Cut transmission.”

Satele's image flickered out, replaced again by the hologram of the Republic battleship.

Zash's smile vanished just as quickly. The Sith spoke as briskly as any soldier. “Let our forces know what’s on the way," she told Mako. "Tell them they need to hurry.”

***

Lt. Jorgan helped Captain Mettis face the Engineering section, just opposite Chief Engineer Salen. Had the shield from the lockdown not separated them, the two men would have been within arm’s reach of each other.

“You look like hell, Captain,” Salen said.

“Never mind that,” Mettis replied. “The lockdown – Did Haken do that, or did the Imps?”

“Based on the security feed, Haken did it _for_ the Imps.”

Mettis swore, then glanced at Canlyn. “I apologize, Master Jedi.”

“My sensibilities will survive, Captain.” She addressed Salen. “Can you lift the lockdown from here?”

Salen pursed his lips, mulling the problem. He and his engineers began heatedly discussing possibilities. Mettis listened, occasionally interjecting to rule out an option. It was clear the man knew his ship well.

Canlyn turned to the communications panel, which was fortunately on their side of the shield. She checked. It was functioning. She keyed it to Ashara and Qyzen’s communicator code.

Ashara’s startled face appeared before her. “What’s going on, Lyn?”

“Imperials are on the ship,” Canlyn told her. “They have the bridge. We must assume The General is their target.”

Ashara looked grave. “Most of the soldiers are caught behind the lockdown shields,” she said. "But Qyzen scouted it out, and the shields in this corridor are down."

A path had been left, leading straight to The General. 

"How many soldiers are defending the corridor?"

"Maybe a dozen or so." No barrier to a Sith.

Canlyn warned her about the Sith presence she had felt. Ashara's face showed active anxiety.

"If Master Caecinius was here, he could fight them," Ashara said. "But I don't think I can, Lyn."

"Don't even try," Canlyn said. "Get The General to an escape pod."

“The escape pods are on the other side of the shields!” The hint of panic in the young padawan's voice was decidedly not Jedi-like.

“We are working on the shields," Canlyn assured her. "Just be ready to move when they drop. In the meantime, remember the mission. Keep The General safe, at all costs.”

Canlyn ended the communication, and turned to see Lt. Jorgan and Cress Va'Shann staring at her.

“Who’s The General?” Cress asked gruffly.

Mettis started to speak, but Canlyn interrupted. "An Imperial defector," she said. “He claims to have critical information for the Republic Senate. His presence on the ship was meant to be a secret, but the ship's First Officer appears to have other loyalties than expected.” She turned to Mettis. “My apologies, Captain, but at this point secrecy has become counter-productive.”

Mettis gave a single, tight nod. “Agreed,” he said. “The news gets worse.”

He indicated Chief Engineer Salen. Both he and his fellow engineers had become very quiet.

“We have a solution,” Salen said slowly. “A reactor reset will disengage the security locks.”

Cress and Lt. Jorgan exchanged a grim glance. Canlyn looked from them to Mettis and the engineers. All were equally downcast.

“What's wrong?” Canlyn asked carefully. "What happens once you initiate this reset?"

“A reset assumes either a fire or an imminent meltdown,” Salen said. “The entire Engineering section is automatically vented. We will be sucked into space.”

Canlyn could not suppress her horrified gasp. Behind Salen, she saw the junior engineers. They were very young, most of them not much older than her. A few had tears in their eyes, but most just moved robotically to their stations, as if walking in a dream.

“Get back to the corridor,” Salen told Mettis. “The door will seal as soon as we engage the reset.”

“Wait!” Canlyn protested. “There has to be another way."

Mettis shook his head. “We don't have time. If we don't take back the bridge, there's nothing stopping the Imperials from initiating a self-destruct. If we can't dislodge them, we could all end up dead. More than 300 souls." He turned back to Salen and the engineers. “It has been an honor serving with you,” he told them, offering a salute.

Salen nodded stiffly, but did not return the gesture. "Get out of here." Canlyn could hear the tremor the man was suppressing as he spoke. 

“Let’s go,” Lt. Jorgan whispered to the captain. He pulled him toward the door as Cress led the Jedi into the corridor. 

Canlyn shuddered as the door to Engineering sealed behind them. 

_Death in space_. Within fifteen seconds, all the oxygen in the bloodstream would be used up, and the engineers would begin to suffocate. Anyone who gave into instinct and held their breath would have their lungs ruptured by the loss of external pressure. If they remembered to exhale, they would be spared that… But would still retain consciousness long enough to feel their skin and tissue swell as the water in their bodies vaporized. 

They would mercifully lose consciousness two to three seconds later. But those final seconds would be a living nightmare.

Cress read the revulsion on her face, understood what she was thinking.

“I know it’s unthinkable,” he said to her. “Sometimes duty means doing the unthinkable, and sometimes command means ordering it.”

“Could you order that?” she asked.

“I’m just a sergeant. I’m a lot more likely to be doing the dying than ordering it. And that suits me just fine.”

There was a loud click, and a hissing sound. The shields flickered, then fell. Canlyn was suddenly aware of the ship's constant background hum - a hum that had abruptly silenced.

Captain Mettis was at most forty – But in that instant, he looked stooped and old. "The shields are down?" His voice was hoarse with grief.

“Yes, sir,” Jorgan replied softly. “They're down.”

With the shields no longer blocking their way, troopers began to appear in the corridor. They gathered around them, and around their injured captain.

“Captain?” a Mirialan corporal was stunned to see Mettis' condition.

The captain held his head high. “I’m blind, soldier. Please identify yourself, and how many troops are with you.”

The corporal gave an instant salute. “Corporal Vilish Esor, sir. Twenty-three troopers.”

“Sergeant Va’Shann,” Mettis said. “Can you retake the bridge with Corporal Esor’s men?”

Cress saluted. “Absolutely, sir.”

“Then do it.” He turned to Jorgan. “Lieutenant, I need you with the Jedi. Get to The General, keep him safe if you can.”

“Yes, sir!” Jorgan said. "Come on, Jedi."

Canlyn didn't respond. Her mind was still reeling at the engineers’ sacrifice. 

"Snap out of it!” Jorgan barked the way he might to recruits on a drill ground. “It’s up to us to make sure they died for a reason!”

Canlyn's fur instinctively stood on end, and she felt a reflexive aggression. But her training kicked in, and she pushed the aggression back down, recognizing the truth of Jorgan's words.

“I apologize,” she said. “Lead the way, Lieutenant.”

They disappeared aft, leaving Cress to take command of the troopers. He was aware of their eyes, scrutinizing his HAVOC insignia.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I am HAVOC Squad." He thought of what to say, dismissing the thought of apologies or explanations. Right now, he needed them fired up. "HAVOC Squad," he repeated. "Legends. The most feared troops in the Republic army. That's me - and now that you’re under my command, that's you. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

“No, sergeant!” the corporal replied.

Cress looked past him to the men. “I didn’t hear you!” he shouted.

“No, sergeant!” the men replied, as one. There was still doubt in some voices.

“One more time,” Cress said. “Who are we?”

“HAVOC Squad, Sergeant!” Their doubt was fading in the face of his show of confidence.

"That's right. We are HAVOC Squad." Cress scanned the men, who were falling into formation under his gaze. “HAVOC Squad – Let’s take out the trash!”


	7. Fire and Ice

“Heads up,” Mako’s voice sounded in Zarek’s ear. “The lockdown just went off-line.”

“How did they manage that?” Zarek demanded. But the answer didn’t matter. “Never mind. How many troops are heading our way?”

“Or ours?” Cipher Nine’s voice interjected.

“No way to tell,” Mako replied. “But there are 300 Republic troops aboard, so…”

“Too many,” Zarek said flatly. He wheeled to Haken and the Imperial troops. “All right, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time to go.”

“Should we kill the bridge crew?” Kaliyo asked. 

Zarek was disgusted by the eagerness in her voice, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he glared at the Republic officers. "Only if they give you a reason," he said. "Any of them moves before we're off the bridge, you know what to do."

Two troops flanked the exit, facing the bridge crew to allow the others to withdraw. 

Zarek lingered inside the doorway. “Prisoners to the bridge!” he barked. He waited, watching warily until the final Republic trooper had filed in. Then he slipped out, blasting the wall sensor on his way out. It wouldn't take long to bypass that, but for at least a few minutes, the bridge was locked.

"We need to move," he told the others.

But it was too late. Republic troops were already visible at the end of the corridor. They were closing fast.

“Into those doorways!” Zarek ordered. “Give them a gauntlet to run!”

Before the Republic forced were in range, the Imperials had taken up positions, holding the enemy at bay with staggered blaster fire. But it wouldn’t last. Two smoke grenades would obscure their vision; a well-placed incendiary would knock enough of them out for the Republic to get through.

Khem Val stared eagerly at the Republic forces. "I hunger," he announced.

Zarek considered. The monster would definitely knock the enemy back, and he wouldn't mind losing the unpredictable Dashade. But he didn't trust the creature's Sith Master to be understanding if Khem died.

"Too many, even for you," he told Khem. "You come with us."

The creature growled at him, but obeyed.

Zarek called to Mako. "I need an escape route, and I need it now."

“Can you blast through some walls?” Mako asked.

Zarek conveyed the question to Kaliyo, who responded by throwing back her head and roaring with laughter.

***

Cress processed the enemy formation in an instant. The Imperials were few in number – he estimated between 12 and 15 – but they were well positioned.

“Do we have any smoke grenades?” he barked.

No response for several seconds. Then one private raised a hand. “I have two incendiaries,” he said.

It wouldn’t create the level of smoke Cress would have liked – But if they were thrown with precision, the heat would be enough to drive the Imperials back from their doorways. It might even take one or two of them out, depending on the level of heat.

“OK, HAVOC,” he said in a low voice. “We’re going to have to do this perfectly. Who has the best throwing arm – Not just distance, but accuracy?”

“Miklin,” the private said without hesitation. Several other voices agreed. Miklin – a craggy Weequay, took the grenades from the private.

“You’re going to need to throw those directly between the far doorways,” Cress told him. “First the end of the hall, then the one right in front of it. Can you do it?”

"Easy," the Weequay replied.

“The rest of you,” Cress said. “As soon as those incendiaries go off, we’re going to charge right up that corridor. It’s going to be hot – You’re going to feel like you’re burning when we cross the blast zone. You need to keep moving. One foot in front of the other, blasters firing all out until we reach the bridge. Don’t bother with aiming. Just keep moving through the heat. Even if the guy next to you falls, keep moving forward. Simple, I know - but you better believe it's not going to be easy. Questions?"

There were no questions. 

“HAVOC Squad – advance!”

***

Zarek left a half dozen troops at the end of the hall, directing them to hold off the Republic troops. “Don’t wait too long,” he emphasized. “Delay them, but not long enough to get killed or captured. Buy us two minutes if you can, then follow.”

He and Kaliyo ducked into the room on the left – the side away from the hull. Kaliyo planted a charge at the center of the opposite wall.

The blast was enormous, but also controlled. The center of the wall collapsed, leaving a hole wide enough for two at a time to cross to the adjoining room.

“Next, the inside wall,” Mako directed. “That will take you into the service ducts. From there, you should be able to reach the shuttle bay.”

As Kaliyo planted the remaining charge, Zarek called Cipher.

“What's your status?" he asked.

“Mako’s closing bulkheads behind us to keep us from getting overrun,” Cipher replied. “We’ll be taking an escape pod out. Just as planned."

“I don’t like this,” Zarek protested.

“We’ll be fine, Zarek,” Cipher said. “You’ve done your job. It’s time to let us do ours.”

***

Cress heard the blasts before Miklin was in range to throw the grenades. Loud blasts, with sounds of metal shattering. He was confused for a moment, then realized what it must mean.

The Imps were blasting themselves an escape route.

They were at the edge of the Imperials’ range, and the enemy was already firing. Miklin let out a howl as he ran forward, throwing the first incendiary and reaching for the second. A blaster bolt caught him, and he fell to his knees. But he held onto the second grenade, and managed a decent forward throw.

“Advance!” Cress shouted.

His soldiers charged, firing blindly into the corridor. The heat from the blast was like an inferno. Cress felt as if his organs were boiling. He heard cries and coughs from the men around him. A few soldiers were driven back – but the majority held the line and continued the advance.

Cress saw and heard some men fall, but not as many as he had honestly expected. The Imperial fire was slowing. The Imps must have been gradually retreating into the hole they had blasted.

By the time his men cleared the hot zone, no living Imperials were visible. From the bodies in the hall, it looked as though they had cut the Imp numbers in half. He took stock of his own force. He had lost seven soldiers, including those who had fallen back from the heat. 

“Check the bridge,” he told the man nearest him.

The wall panel had been blasted. Cress left two men to force it open, then went in search of the Imperial escape route.

It didn’t take long to find the path they had blasted into the service ducts.

"HAVOC Squad! With me!"

He jumped into the hole, double-timing it, pushing to catch up with the enemy forces.

***

Zarek was almost at the shuttle bay when he heard the sound of pursuit. The enemy was closer than he had expected.

“Can you do something to slow them down?” he asked Kaliyo.

“Do you care how nasty it is?”

“Not if it buys us time."

Kaliyo dug into her back and removed two bits of plastic. She waited, listening for the Republic troops. Then she slammed the two bits together and thrust the plastic onto the wall beside her.

“Run!” she screamed.

***

Cress heard the woman's cry. “Run!” Urgent, but not panicked. Not the voice of someone afraid of the troops chasing her.

He remembered the shuttle. Someone had rigged that expertly.

"Down!" he shouted, diving to the floor himself.

A sheet of blue fire erupted overhead. Cress braced himself for heat. Instead, he felt intense cold. Frigid ice that made the wastes of Hoth seem temperate by comparison.

The men who didn’t dive fast enough never had a chance to scream. They were frozen in place, like statues. 

When the blue flame cleared, it was with a sonic burst. The statues that had once been troopers shattered into glass. Cress’ remaining force stared at the crystallized remains in horror.

“Mourn later!” Cress snapped. “Now we make those Imp bastards pay!”

The prospect of revenge fueled the troops, quickening their pace as they again gave chase.

They burst out into the shuttle bay, firing wildly. The Imperial troops had dragged wreckage from the initial explosion, forming a barricade around their shuttle. A delaying action, to allow the Imps to retreat.

Cress and his men scattered, firing at the barricade. To Cress’s satisfaction, Imperial troops fell. The defensive line crumbled.

“Advance!” he shouted.

***

The Republic troops had recovered from Kaliyo's explosion more quickly than Zarek had anticipated. The Imperials' defenses had crumbled. There were still soldiers in the shuttle bay, but Zarek could actually see the angry eyes of the Twi'lek trooper leading the assault.

"We have to go," he said. "Lift off now!"

The Imperial pilot obeyed. But as the shuttle rose from the floor, Khem Val jumped out.

"I hunger!"

The Republic troops backed up at his fearsome presence.

"Hold!" Zarek ordered. 

Imperial soldiers leaned out the entrance, extending their hands to help their comrades into the shuttle. Zarek could see the Republic rallying, fire concentrating on Khem. The Dashade was strong, but not blaster-proof. He was being driven back, and finally spun and ran toward the opposite corridor, heading aft. Toward Cipher and Reyenna.

Zarek doubted the monster would make it. But his idiotic charge had bought them time to get the remaining soldiers aboard.

"Punch it!" he ordered.

The Republic soldiers had shifted fire from Khem to the shuttle. Zarek felt a lurch.

"Engine Two is out," the pilot gritted. 

The shuttle was rocked by more fire. But the pilot held the ship steady, and accelerated as rapidly as he dared. Another engine was taken out, but that still left them with one - enough to lurch back toward the _Black Talon_.

Zarek allowed himself a deep breath, then looked at the faces of the Imperial soldiers. For most of them, he knew this had been their first engagement. Most of them looked like they were in shock, staring at their friends disbelievingly.

"We're alive," he confirmed. "We made it."

He glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the Republic ship. He thought of Cipher Nine, and hoped she would make it out as well.

***

Cress watched the Imperial shuttle retreat on its one remaining engine. 

_We had them_ , he fumed. But he hadn't been prepared for that... thing that jumped out at them. The men had recovered quickly from the shock. A few seconds was enough to bring weapons to bear and drive the creature back.

  
But those seconds had been enough. The Imps who had invaded were gone.

_At least we chased them off the bridge_. It was a victory. How complete would depend on Jorgan and the Jedi, but he and his men had done their part.

As he turned back to the Republic troops, he saw them drawing into formation in front of him. They were grinning. They knew nothing about The General. All they knew was that Imps had stormed their ship, and they had driven them off.

The men began chanting. Low and discordant at first, but growing steadily in volume. Two words, over and over. words that a mere hour ago had seemed destined to become a curse instead of a cheer:

“HAVOC Squad! HAVOC Squad! HAVOC Squad!”


	8. "The Peace Is Already Lost"

With Mako guiding them, Cipher Nine and Reyenna had ben able to quickly follow the ventilation system to their planned exit point in the _Brentaal Star_ ’s cargo bay. The Imperial asset on the bridge had initiated the lockdown, then lowered the specific shields needed for them to enter the cargo bay. Reyenna's Force abilities made it a matter of seconds to deal with the few Republic troopers on their side of the shield, while the rest of the enemy forces were limited to shouting and glaring at them from behind the energy barrier.

Everything was proceeding perfectly to plan. Until the shields fell.

Republic troops were on them instantly. Reyenna’s lightsaber swung continuously, first knocking back blaster bolts and then slicing into Republic Troopers. Cipher picked off several more with her blaster.

But they both knew there were too many of them.

A telekinetic burst from Reyenna threw the enemy back violently, and she began shooting lightning. 

"The corridor," Cipher gasped.

Reyenna nodded. It was more defensible. She sheathed her lightsaber and used both hands to shoot streams of lightning at the Republic forces. The soldiers backed away, and she and Cipher were able to reach the corridor.

But it was not an effort she could maintain indefinitely. When she paused to collect her strength, the soldiers immediately began closing again.

“Hang on,” Mako told them. “I’m in the ship’s systems. I should be able to…”

A bulkhead closed, sealing the corridor off from the cargo bay. Around them, doors slid shut and locked. A handful of Republic soldiers had made it out into the corridor. A few blaster bolts from Cipher Nine were enough to send them into full retreat.

Cipher holstered her blaster.

“Why let them live?” Reyenna asked.

“They'll already be working on overriding Mako's tampering," Cipher replied. "We have ten minutes if we're lucky. I’m not wasting any of that time chasing people who are already running away.”

Mako directed them through a series of turns, closing each bulkhead they passed. Maximizing the barriers between Republic soldiers and them. They were nearing the escape pods when Zarek’s voice came through Cipher’s implants.

“What's your status?”

Cipher Nine replied briskly, keeping her attention on the path in front of them. “Mako’s closing bulkheads behind us to keep us from getting overrun. We’ll be taking an escape pod out. Just as planned.”

“I don’t like this,” Zarek grumbled.

Cipher rolled her eyes. _Just what I need – a knight on a white steed_.

“We’ll be fine, Zarek,” she said, taking care to keep her annoyance out of her voice. 

At that moment, a young Togruta in Jedi robes appeared at the end of the hallway. Behind the Jedi, Cipher saw a Trandoshan escorting a man in an Imperial uniform. They were heading toward the escape pods.

The Jedi turned toward them, holding her ground. Clearly planning to stop them from reaching their target, or at least buy time for The General to escape.

Cipher closed out her conversation. “You’ve done your job. It’s time to let us do ours.”

***

Reyenna ignored Cipher’s bickering with the bounty hunter. Her focus was on the young Jedi. She could sense the power in her – but also the lack of discipline. 

“Halt where you are,” the Jedi said, stepping toward them. Despite her attempt to sound resolved, Reyenna could smell her fear. “I am Ashara Zavros, Padawan of the Jedi Order. I have been tasked with protecting The General. You will not pass.”

Reyenna grinned. This might be fun.

“Your Master sent you?” she asked casually. “I know how that goes. My first teacher tried to kill me, too.”

Ashara seemed stunned by her response. “You Sith are a mockery of everything the Jedi believe,” she stammered.

“Think how dreary life would be without a bit of mockery,” Reyenna replied. She activated her lightsaber. “As for the Jedi - Where were you when the Treaty of Coruscant signed my planet over to the Empire? Oh, that's right - nodding sagely while telling the spineless politicians to go ahead and sign on the dotted line. Though I suppose a 12 year old like you can't be blamed for that.”

The dig at Ashara's age did the trick. Ashara charged angrily, her lightsaber drawn back to strike. Leaving her legs unguarded.

Reyenna stepped to the side and kicked at the padawan’s ankles. Ashara leapt to avoid the blow, but had to pivot quickly to ward off Reyenna’s followup blows.

“Not bad,” Reyenna said. “I thought I might be able to trip you in your blind rage. But you’ll need to do a lot better.” She glanced at Cipher. “Go!”

Cipher ran past them. The padawan moved to stop her, but Reyenna directed lightning at her. Ashara was not prepared, and it took precious seconds for her to ward off the Force attack. By then, CIpher was already at the end of the corridor, in full pursuit of The General.

“Qyzen will stop her,” Ashara said confidently.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. My friend might be small, but she’s sharp. She planned this whole attack – 300 of the Republic’s finest, and she’s made you all but helpless.”

Ashara directed a strong and sudden attack. Reyenna barely defended in time, was driven back several paces.

“I am not helpless!” Ashara shouted.

Reyenna laughed in delight. “You have passion, Ashara Zavros! Passion and anger! I've always understood the Jedi didn’t really approve of that.”

Ashara’s already red face flushed scarlet. She attacked again, her assault powered by her fury.

Reyenna was ready this time. She dodged the uncontrolled assault, letting her opponent's momentum carry her past. Then she directed a telekinetic blast that knocked Ashara to the ground and sent her lightsaber rolling out of her hands toward the closed bulkhead.

Reyenna stood over her. "The thing about passion that even the Sith tend to forget?" she said. "It does lend you strength, and it does gain you power. But that's all meaningless unless you're also able to control it. You must direct your anger. It's no good if your anger controls you."

Ashara glared defiantly at her. “Finish it, Sith,” she snapped.

Reyenna lifted her blade. "If you insist." She actually felt slightly sad at the thought of killing the young woman. So much anger and resentment. So very much like her. 

She actually felt a hint of relief when she was interrupted by the bulkhead sliding open. Another young Jedi, this one a Cathar, stood at the opening. Another Cathar in a Republic uniform stood beside her.

"The invasion of the cat people," Reyenna observed.

“Lyn!” Ashara gasped.

The Cathar Jedi reached out, and the fallen lightsaber leapt into her palm. She activated it, adopting an expert fighting stance.

“There’s another Imperial, chasing The General!” Ashara called. “A young woman. The Sith said she’s the one who planned this assault!”

“Jorgan, go," the Jedi ordered. Though just as young as Ashara, this new arrival seemed much more poised and restrained. Far more like the Jedi that Reyenna had always been told of.

The Cathar Trooper - Jorgan - bolted down the corridor. Reyenna tried to stop him with lightning, but the Jedi swatted it away. A casual mental swipe that appeared to take no effort at all. Yes, this one was much more controlled than Ashara.

Reyenna tapped her wrist communicator, keeping her attention on her adversary. “Cipher Nine, you have incoming. One Cathar soldier. Be ready.”

A reply started to come through, but she switched off the communicator. She had given her warning. The rest was up to the agent.

“I am Reyenna Desme, apprentice to Darth Zash." It was only polite to introduce herself. “And you?”

“Canlyn Dessan of the Jedi Order. I am willing to accept your surrender.”

Reyenna laughed. She saw a hint of a smile on Canlyn’s lips, as well. A sense of humor. Probably Ashara's doing.

She tentatively explored Canlyn with her senses. She sensed power – cold and controlled. The combat stance was textbook, and she was waiting patiently for Reyenna to make a move.

She didn't bother to try to bait this Jedi. There would be no point. She raised her lightsaber in the stance Arkarix Krell had taught her, and beckoned with one hand.

“Shall we dance?”

***

Aric Jorgan had just rounded the corner when he felt the muzzle of a blaster above his left ear.

“Please don’t make me kill you, Lieutenant. There has been enough death today.” A woman’s voice, with a crisp Imperial accent. 

“Today’s nothing next to what’s coming,” he replied. “You’ve invaded Republic space. Attacked a Republic military vessel. Good men and women are dead because of you. The Republic will respond in kind.”

Despite his words, he surrendered his blaster. The agent had him dead to rights.

“Your name?” she asked.

“Lieutenant Aric Jorgan, most recently attached to Ord Mantell.”

“Ord Mantell?” She smiled. “HAVOC Squad?”

“I was the local liaison for them."

“And you didn’t see their betrayal coming,” she observed. “I expect your superiors aren't too happy with you right now.”

Jorgan stiffened, but did not reply.

“I wouldn't worry too much about the response, Lt. Jorgan. This ship cut into Imperial space.” Jorgan started to protest. “Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t supposed to. The General probably fell short of the scheduled intercept point. But it doesn't change the facts. This _Brentaal Star_ entered our space first. Check the logs after we leave. You'll see I'm telling the truth."

"Doesn't change what you did," he said stubbornly. "It's an act of war."

"There won't be a war. Some sabre-rattling, sure. Accusations and counter-accusations, with both of our governments playing the victim. Eventually, there will be a few minor concessions on both sides. But a war? Only a lunatic would want that.”

“Which is exactly the problem, young lady. There are far too many lunatics on both sides.” 

Cipher Nine and Jorgan were both startled by the man’s voice. Their eyes were drawn down the corridor. To an older man, probably about sixty, in an Imperial military dress uniform. 

Cipher gasped in recognition. “You? _You’re_ The General?” 

Jorgan tried to take advantage of her shock, tensing to leap to the side. She gripped his shoulder tightly and applied more pressure with the blaster. A message: _Don't be stupid_. Jorgan slumped, defeated.

She turned back to The General. “I was on Ziost. A lot of us only survived because of you. How could you turn traitor?”

“I am no traitor.” His eyes blazed at the accusation. “Everything I have ever done has been for the Empire.”

A Trandoshan approached from behind The General.

“This is foolish,” he growled. “Herald wants you safe. Should be at escape pods.”

“To what? Buy a few more minutes before the Imperial ship scoops us up? No, Qyzen. I will not spend my final moments cowering in a tin can.”

He glared at Cipher. “You say there will be no war. If you knew what I know, you wouldn’t be so confident. Voices in the Empire cry out that we should have pressed on after Coruscant, obliterated the Republic. Ignoring that it wasn't possible, that all our forces were committed in the initial assault. Voices in the Republic recognize that the Treaty was a mistake, and want a second chance to win the war. Ignoring that our forces now are much stronger than at Coruscant, that we've dedicated two decades to rebuilding our might!”

“There are always extremist voices,” Cipher argued.

“Yes, but the center is so fractured, the extremists are the ones holding the power!” The man’s eyes teared up. “I have seen the reports. I have heard what both sides are plotting. They’re building doomsday weapons. Shields that envelop planets. Missiles that darken suns! Empire and Republic alike plan to raze worlds, annihilate civilizations. It will be unlike anything the galaxy has seen since the Great Hyperspace War. No winners, no losers. Just death.”

“We will stop it,” Cipher said confidently.

“It’s far too late. The so-called peace is already lost. I had hoped by testifying before the Republic Senate, I might create a stalemate. Now even that fragile hope is gone.”

Jorgan was aware of Cipher, hesitating. Staring at The General, processing his grim words. She seemed to be weighing her options, making a decision.

It was at that moment that the Trandoshan charged.

Qyzen telegraphed his attack with a roar, which brought all of Cipher’s attention on him. And provided Jorgan with his opening.

He threw himself backwards with all of his strength, knocking her to the floor. She kicked him back instantly and leapt to her feet, but by that time Qyzen had reached her.

She and the Trandoshan fought hand-to-hand. Qyzen had the advantage of height and strength, but Cipher was faster and more skilled. She evaded his blows and directed repeated kicks at his side. Qyzen was knocked back, and she lifted her blaster.

Jorgan charged again. She caught his movement, swiveled to fire at him.

He didn’t feel so much pain as pressure as the bolt hit. It was like the air had been knocked out of him. He fought for air. It was as if his chest was struggling against an anvil.

He continued to watch the fight, feeling at an increasing remove. _Shock_ , his brain processed, but he could not attach any emotion to the self-diagnosis, or to the outcome of the skirmish.

Qyzen had barreled into Cipher a second after she fired. She was knocked back, the blaster flying out of her hand. A few feet away from Jorgan. He felt he should try to get the blaster. He tried to move, but his muscles would not respond.

He glanced at The General. The Imperial just stood in place, watching the contest before him. It would take just a few steps for the man to pick up the weapon. He did not seem inclined to do so.

It didn’t look like it mattered. Cipher was on the ground, Qyzen preparing to leap on her. In a heartbeat, the young woman would either be dead or a prisoner.

Then the agent's wrist flicked, and Qyzen fell back, then collapsed to his knees. Jorgan saw the small blade sticking out of the alien’s ribcage. Too small to stop Qyzen on its own – unless the blade had been treated with something.

Qyzen yanked the blade out, stared at Cipher as she regained her footing. 

“Kinrath venom,” Cipher said casually. “Greatly reduced. You will live. But you won’t be able to move for the next hour.”

Qyzen fell to his knees. He glared at her with pure rage.

“If it’s any consolation," she said, "you very nearly had me. You are a very smart hunter. I know this will cost you all your points, but it shouldn’t take long for you to recover your score.”

She paused to pick up the dropped blaster, then knelt beside Jorgan. She reached into her bag, sprayed a hard foam over his chest. He hissed as tendrils of ice closed around his heart.

"It's unpleasant, I know,” she said. “But it will keep your chest intact until the medical team reaches you.”

The shock must have been receding, because Jorgan was able to feel anger. He glared fiercely at her.

“You should kill me." It took an enormous to grit the words between his teeth. "I will find you."

She shook her head. “You really won’t. But if focusing on revenge keeps your strength up, by all means try.”

She rose and turned to The General. He had made no attempt to flee. She felt she undedrstood. Betraying one's government was no small thing, particularly if you still felt loyal to it. He was likely relieved to have the choice taken away from him.

“Well, agent, you have me,” he said. “Me and my implants, full of cybernetic secrets and stolen plans. What will you do? Is it off to the inquisitors for torture? A march of shame through Kaas City? An example to the rest?”

“That’s what Moff Kilran wants,” Cipher said. "But he isn't here. And I was on Ziost.”

She raised her blaster and fired twice, one shot immediately following the next. The General didn’t cry out. He just collapsed, suddenly lifeless. 

Cipher stood in place, looking down at his body. “Rest well, General.”

She swept her gaze over Qyzen, then Jorgan, both of them immobile and helpless. Then she moved back the way she came, to where the Sith and Jedi were engaged in their battle. A battle that had now been rendered pointless.


	9. "Dead Is Better"

Reyenna was outmatched.

Soaked in her own sweat, she grunted every time her lightsaber connected with Canlyn's. The Jedi came close to hooking her blade inside Reyenna’s, a move to disarm that took all of her strength to defeat. Reyenna managed it, and even briefly forced Canlyn back. But the Jedi just calmly took up a defensive stance, warding off follow-up attacks as if swatting flies.

“You are exhausted, Sith,” Canlyn observed. “Surrender now. I promise you’ll be fairly treated.”

Fairly treated? She would be locked in a cage. Fed drugs to suppress her Force abilities. Maybe, if she was very good and promised to behave, she would eventually be allowed to perform menial labor. Under close observation, of course. To be, in all but name, a slave.

The thought opened an untapped reservoir of rage. She launched herself at Canlyn, striking with all her strength. Blow after blow.

Canlyn dodged or parried every one of them. Reyenna was gulping breaths of air, willing herself to stay upright. The Jedi was not even breathing heavily. Reyenna knew with cold certainty that her battle was lost, and almost certainly her freedom along with it.

Then everything changed.

She sensed Khem Val before she saw him. The purity of his malevolence was like a dark beacon. 

Canlyn also sensed him. She whirled, just barely in time to fend off Khem’s charge. 

The Dashade was frenzied. He was covered in the blood of those Republic soldiers who had either been too slow or too stupid to get out of his way. He snapped at the Jedi with his fangs, eager to devour a Force user. 

It was Canlyn's discipline that saved her. Most would have frozen in fear, if only for a heartbeat. She kept moving, fluidly rolling away from the beast. She sprang to her feet to face both of her assailants. 

Had Canlyn been alone, she might have stood a chance. She had not tired herself with extra actions, and her fighting form remained impeccable. 

But Ashara had only just recovered enough to find her feet. Reyenna grabbed the young padawn and leveled her lightsaber at the girl's throat.

“Surrender, Jedi.” Reyenna smirked icily at her opponent. “I promise you’ll be fairly treated.”

***

By the time Cipher Nine returned, the Jedi was handing her lightsaber to Reyenna. Khem Val loomed over them. Cipher took in his appearance. Her guts churned at his gory visage, but she took care not to let her revulsion show.

“It looks like you have everything in hand,” she said. “We should go. Republic troops will be on us any second. Even your monster won't hold them back for long.”

“Of course,” Reyenna glanced at Khem. “You've worked hard, Khem. You deserve a reward. Eat the Jedi.”

Khem reached for Canlyn. Ashara cried out, but was constrained by Reyenna's lightsaber.

“Stop!” Cipher shouted. 

Khem ignored her, lifting Canlyn into the air and pulling her toward his maw.

Cipher leveled her blaster at Reyenna’s temple. “I said stop.” 

It was an insane act, and she knew it. Reyenna might only be an apprentice, but she could still kill her with a thought. Her only defense was keeping her finger tensed on her trigger, so that she could just as instantly return the favor.

Reyenna hesitated. Then grinned.

“You win, spy. Khem, release the Jedi.”

The beast dropped Canlyn to the floor, and the Cathar landed as gracelessly as a discarded sack of flour. Reyenna disengaged the lightsaber, shoved Ashara toward her friend.

“I recommend you stay down,” Reyenna said. “Khem is quite hungry, and he's not really very good with orders.” She tucked the Jedi lightsaber into her belt, next to her own blade. “Thanks awfully for the souvenir."

Then she and Khem followed Cipher down the hallway, Mako sealing the bulkhead behind them.

Cipher led Reyenna past the wounded Republic lieutenant and the frozen Trandoshan, then past the body of The General. The Sith barely glanced at the corpse. Cipher doubted she even recognized the dead man.

As they climbed into an escape pod and ejected themselves into space, Khem glared balefully at Cipher.

“You are weak,” he growled. “I should eat you now.”

She returned his gaze calmly.

"You," she said flatly, "are stupid."

Khem started to lunge forward. She pulled an item from her bag.

“This is a thermal detonator. Come one step closer, and there won't be any need for the _Talon_ to bother with picking us up.”

Khem growled angrily. Reyenna stared between her two companions, then began laughing uproariously.

"One thing I'll say about you two," she said. "You aren't boring."

Cipher Nine and Khem continued to exchange glares, while Reyenna sat between them, giggling fitfully, until finally the ship picked them up.

***

When they stepped back onto the _Talon_ ’s bridge, the holocommunicator showed a heavily scarred man in an Imperial military uniform. Cipher recognized him immediately from entirely too many Intelligence reports: Grand Moff Rycus Kilran. The Butcher of Coruscant.

He had been speaking with Zash and Zarek, while the turncoat Republic officer – Haken – lingered in the background. Kilran turned to greet the trio.

“These must be the heroes of the hour.” He grimaced. Based on his scars, Cipher suspected that was as close to a smile as his face could manage.

“Is there a problem with the transmission?” Reyenna asked. “Or is your face meant to look like that?”

Cipher felt her face flush. She knew enough about Kilran to know that even a Sith apprentice was ill-advised to make an enemy of him. But Kilran was unruffled, merely shrugging and pointing at his own face.

“These were a gift from an old Jedi friend, back on Coruscant. He was disciplined, with powers I could only dream of - but I'm the one who survived."

"Why not have them fixed?" Reyenna asked. "I admit, vanity is a weakness of mine. I'd have the scars removed as soon as I was able."

"I was never pretty, even before the scars," Kilran answered. "Besides, I'm rather proud of these markings. They are a reminder that with enough determination and cunning, even a Jedi can be killed." _Even a Sith_ was left unspoken, but it was understood by all. 

He turned to Cipher NIne. "How did the attack go?”

“Casualties were kept within acceptable limits,” she replied. "The General is dead.”

“A pity you couldn’t bring him back alive.”

“Dead is better. I won’t say his name on an open channel, but you must know who he was.”

“Of course," Kilran said.

“Then you should know what a blow to morale his defection would have been. Alive, even rumors of his betrayal would have demoralized our forces the same way HAVOC Squad’s defection did to the Republic. Instead of a live traitor, we have a martyr: Kidnapped by the Republic at the border of our space, murdered when he refused to tell their lies in public. His name will be a chant of pride when our forces eventually go into battle.”

Kilran nodded, absorbing her words. "I see," he said. "Now I understand why Darth Jadus has taken such an interest in you.”

Cipher could not fully suppress the tremor at the mention of Darth Jadus.

“Fear,” Khem grumbled. "You can see it as easily as I smell it. She is weak."

Kilran’s eyes flicked to the Dashade. “What is this creature?” he asked, not disguising his impatience.

“He is mine,” Reyenna announced, her tone clearly challenging Kilran. “Khem may lack refinement, but he speaks the truth. This agent stopped us from killing two Jedi.”

Kilran’s eyes narrowed as his attention returned to Cipher. “Is this true?” he asked.

“It is,” Cipher confirmed. “A war may be coming, but it's clear the Emperor isn't ready for it to start just yet. The dead soldiers will create an incident, but they breached our space first - We can play the victims at least as well as they can. But if we had killed Jedi? That might have changed the story. If nothing else, the Jedi have mostly lain dormant the past twenty years. I don’t think there’s any benefit to waking them up.”

Kilran’s grimace/smile returned. “Your point is well taken,” he said. He turned to Zash. “Your apprentice may, of course, lodge a complaint. But I will support the agent's judgment." He turned back to Reyenna. "As for your pet? If he can't learn to keep his silence, then you might consider having him muzzled.”

Reyenna gave a lavish bow. "I will take it under advisement, Moff Kilran." Her tone was perfectly balanced, so that even Cipher couldn't be sure whether she was being respectful or mocking.

The Moff addressed the room. “You should all be proud,” he announced. “A small Imperial transport took on a Republic warship, and the Empire prevailed. The General was one of the greatest weapons our enemies might have had, and you snatched him out from under their fingertips. I will personally commend all of you to your respective superiors – and bounty hunter, I have already transferred a substantial sum to your accounts as payment for your contribution.” 

Zarek glanced at Mako. After taking a second to check their accounts through her implants, she nodded confirmation. 

"I'm also aware of your interest in The Great Hunt," Kilran added. "I will whisper a word in some of the right ears for you. Mandalorian ears."

Zarek inclined his head in gratitude.

“Soon you will join us on the homeworld,” the Moff told them. "There, you will see what you've been fighting for. In the meantime, enjoy the rest of your journey. Kilran out.”


	10. "What Happens Now?"

It took another forty minutes for the Republic ships to reach the _Brentaal Star_ ’s position, and by that time the _Black Talon_ was long gone. Forces were mobilized near the border of Imperial space to try to intercept it, but they all knew this was a futile effort. The Imperial ship was small and it was fast; it would slip through.

Satele Shan spoke with Canlyn as they walked to the _Brentaal Star_ ’s infirmary. The sickbay had been well away from the action, and medical personnel had already assured them that Master Yuon remained stable. Nevertheless, both wanted to check on Yuon, and Canlyn also wanted to look in on Qyzen Fess.

“I failed,” Canlyn said frankly. “I lost The General, and even my own lightsaber. I should not have gone to the bridge.”

“Captain Mettis summoned you,” Satele replied. “We are not Sith, answerable to no one. You must obey a captain's order on his own ship.”

“Had Master Caecinius been sent instead of me – ”

“The body count would have been much higher, likely including the Sith you faced, but The General would be every bit as dead," Satele said firmly. "Caecinius is skilled, but even he cannot be in two places at once." Her expression softened. "Captain Mettis personally commended you. From all he said, I believe you conducted yourself admirably."

“How is the captain?” Canlyn asked.

“He will need ocular implants to restore his vision,’ Satele replied. “Even then, he will have a painful period of adjustment. I suspect his career is over.”

They reached the infirmary, where Ashara sat with a glum-looking Qyzen. The padawan jumped to her feet at their arrival.

“G-grandmaster!” she cried.

“Ashara Zavros.” Satele’s expression was grim. “You disobeyed the orders of your Master, and of the Jedi Council. I give you one chance to return to Tython to make amends.”

Ashara's face grew pale. She glanced helplessly at Canlyn.

“Don’t look to Knight Dessan for aid. This transgression was yours alone, and so is this decision. Will you return to Tython?”

Ashara hesitated, then shook her head. “No.” Her voice quaked, but she forced herself to stand erect. “Canlyn and Qyzen are my friends. I won’t abandon them.”

“Then you leave me no choice.” Satele raised her chin as she pronounced her sentence. “Ashara Zavros, I strip you of the title of Padawan of the Jedi Order. You are forbidden from wearing Jedi robes or presenting yourself as a member of the Order. If you use your abilities for malignant purposes, you will either be confined or have your abilities suppressed through chemical means. Is this understood?”

Ashara had expected this. But the words, spoken aloud, left her fighting to stand upright. Tears ran down her face. She swallowed a few times, then nodded.

“I understand,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She walked stiffly to the door. As it closed behind her, Canlyn could sense her friend fleeing, in desperate search of a private place to hide and weep.

Satele’s posture relaxed, and she allowed her sorrow to show. “An unpleasant duty,” she said. “I know you are friends, but I trust you appreciate…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Friend or not, you must watch her well. She has no control of her emotions. I fear where they may lead her.”

“I will try to keep her as close to The Path as is possible,” Canlyn promised.

Satele nodded, accepting her answer.

“I must return to Tython,” she said. “Keep me apprised of Master Yuon’s condition. And also… whatever else may arise. I sense a dark journey ahead. I hope you have the strength to bear it.”

With a parting nod, Satele left.

Canlyn turned to Qyzen. “How are you? They said the knife went into your chest.”

“A shallow wound.” He spoke in a monotone. “The cut is of no consequence.”

Canlyn understood. The injury did not bother him. His failure to stop the Imperial spy did.

“From Lieutenant Jorgan’s report, it sounds like you came close to success.”

“Close or far is same,” Qyzen said. “Either way is failure. Three failures. I am poor hunter.”

“I don’t think that’s true. The first two times, on Tython, were at the hands of a Force user. This time you faced a highly-trained agent.”

“Failure is failure.”

Canlyn tried to find the words to comfort her friend. They eluded her.

“I don’t understand your ways,” she said gently. “But if you believe your Scorekeeper brought us together, then you must believe it was for a purpose. Perhaps she is trying to show you that there are better ways to judge your life than through Jagannath points.”

Qyzen listened in silence, then turned his head away.

“I may not understand,” Canlyn added. “But when you’re ready to talk, I will be prepared to listen.”

She sat with him for another moment before leaving in search of Ashara. Traveling from one anguished friend to the next, hoping that she could provide some comfort beyond just meaningless words.

***

Back on her transport, on the return flight to Tython, Satele attempted to meditate. She felt troubled. Though no seer, she had always had premonitions about the future. What she saw now was darkness. She feared for Canlyn, so studious but so unprepared for the larger universe. She feared for Ashara, so undisciplined, and feared she had made the wrong decision by not compelling her to return. 

She feared for her entire Order, and cursed herself for allowing the Jedi to cut themselves off so completely from the galaxy.

Around her fears, meditation eluded her. She simply brooded over her feelings and worries, which made her all the more irritable when her communicator chimed.

She reached for it, sharply telling the caller, “I left instructions not to be disturbed.”

“I am sorry, Grandmaster. But I felt the two of us should speak.” The voice was unfamiliar, but the accent was unmistakable - a crisp, cold Imperial voice.

The image of a young woman formed in the holofield. Young, but with a serious demeanor and the sharp eyes of a practiced predator. Satele recognized her from Canlyn's description.

“You must be the agent who caused so much trouble today,” she said coldly.

"Cipher Nine, of Imperial Intelligence.” The agent bowed her head in acknowledgement.

“Are you calling to gloat? Because I warn you, your success will be short-lived – ”

“Please stop,” Cipher said. Her voice was quiet but fervent. Satele felt the plea in her tone. “I have a scrambler on to keep this communication undetected, but I have limited time. I’m taking an enormous risk, contacting you like this.”

Satele cocked her head, studying the young woman.

“What exactly do you want?” she asked.

“The General and I spoke before I killed him,” Cipher said. “He talked about plans by both sides, about weapons of unthinkable destruction. Some of what he said – Well, it matched information that I'm already aware of."

“So you attacked a Republic ship in Republic space and murdered a man, but now you feel guilty?” Satele knew that bitterness was unbecoming of a Jedi, but she could not quite restrain herself.

“No, I don’t feel guilty,” Cipher said. “I am loyal to the Empire, and I did my duty. But neither of those things make me blind. The General feared that our course is being decided by - in his words - lunatics on both sides. He saw a future where Republic and Empire reduced each other to ash. I will not betray my government, nor do I expect you to betray yours. But... Maybe, if some of us were able to work together just enough to nudge things at key moments… Well, we might not prevent a war, but perhaps we can at least make sure that some kind of civilization exists on the other side of it.”

Cipher fell silent, waiting for Satele to speak.

Satele did not know what to think. The young woman spoke eloquently, and her tone was sincere. But she was a spy, a professional liar. By no means could she be trusted. The smart thing to do was to reject her out of hand and close off any further communications.

_“A fragile hope is better than no hope at all.”_

It had been less than a day since she had said those words to Master Syo. They now echoed strongly in her mind. Certainly, she should be mindful. But caution did not mean closing off the potential for hope.

“How will I contact you?” Satele asked at last.

“I’ll get word to you when I’m in a secure location,” Cipher told her. “We'll discuss future communications then. I'll be seeing you, Satele Shan.”

The young woman’s image vanished. 

Satele ordered a trace on the signal, but her ship’s technicians were unable to find any evidence that the transmission had even occurred. She ordered technicians not to mention the attempted trace to anyone.

_Lunatics on both sides_. The Jedi had allowed their voices to go silent for too long. Whose voice might have taken their place, in both the Republic government and the Republic military? She decided that she would keep this communication to herself, at least until she knew more.

As she settled back to her meditation, she found herself wondering: Was Cipher Nine's message was a sign of hope? Or was it an omen that the path ahead was even darker than she had foreseen?

***

Vette was afraid.

She had heard stories of the Sith all her life. Her childhood friend, Risha, would have scolded her for even coming to Korriban. But she couldn’t make herself pass up the prize.

A stupid choice, as the weight of the shock collar on her neck reminded her. Her life now depended on the good will of a Sith. A man capable of horrific violence, and who regarded her as his slave. 

As she followed Arkarix Krell to his Master’s chambers, he sternly instructed her on her conduct.

“My Master is not as forgiving as I am,” he warned. “Do not speak unless spoken to. If you have the misfortune to draw his attention, reply briefly with as neutral an answer as possible. If he orders your death, I will have no choice but to obey.”

Vette wouldn't have dared to speak regardless of the warning. Clad head to toe in metallic armor, Darth Baras loomed over the room like a living version of one of the Tomb's stone statues. The only sign of humanity was the one good eye that glared balefully out from his helmet. Vette kept her eyes fixed to the floor, praying to whatever deity might be listening that his attention would fall anywhere but on her. She remembered Reyenna’s warning: _“The more invisible you are, the better._ ” 

Baras was pleased when Krell showed him the ancient lightsaber.

“Can you sense its power?” Baras asked.

“I can.” The emotion in Krell’s voice seemed like a mix of rage and wonder. Something in his tone made Vette shudder.

The movement caught Baras’ eye, which flickered over her. The glance was entirely dismissive, as if she was no more than living furniture. Vette felt actively grateful about that.

“Was the slave useful?”

“She was,” Krell said. He did not elaborate. Vette doubted that he wanted his Master to know that his life had been saved by a Twi’lek in a shock collar.

“Then keep her,” Baras said. “Consider her my gift. Along with the lightsaber. Your warblade is fine for an ordinary Sith, but my apprentice requires a more unique weapon.”

Krell looked up at the word “apprentice.”

“Yes, Arkarix Krell,” Baras said. “Your Trials are over. Pack quickly. We leave for Dromund Kaas on the hour.”

Vette packed Krell’s belongings, following his directions as she placed them in his bag. She had never had aptitude for domestic tasks, and folding his clothes took several attempts. At each failure, she worried that the shock collar would activate, but he merely watched with patient amusement.

“You will need to improve quickly,” he advised.

He handed her an acolyte’s robe, one too small and slim for his frame. She guessed it had been left by Reyenna.

“Your own clothes are filthy,” he said. “Discard them. You can wear this for our journey. We will purchase something more suitable when we arrive at Kaas City.”

He left her alone in the room, allowing her privacy to change. She undressed shakily, then reached for the acolyte’s robe.

She barely managed to tie the robe shut before she suddenly collapsed. She was on her knees at the foot of the empty bed, sobbing. 

_Weak,_ she berated herself. _Stupid_.

But she could not stop the tears. She expected Krell to walk back in at any moment, to see her misery. She felt a flash of hatred toward him at even the thought of him observing her weakness.

She pushed herself to her feet, wiping furiously at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. There was nothing she could do about her situation, at least for now. That didn’t mean she would accept it. She would not cower. She would not allow Arkarix Krell or anyone else to see how afraid she was.

Krell knocked on the wall outside the room. He surveyed the fit of the robe.

“It suits you,” he said. He indicated the packed bag on the bed. “Let’s go.”

They walked out of the Sith Academy. _As institutions of higher learning go, this one has got to be the scariest_ , she reflected. She almost said it aloud, but she didn’t trust her voice to remain stable.

As they moved out, Vette saw a group of new acolytes coming in. A few of them looked fierce and eager. The majority looked extremely young and utterly afraid. She didn’t want to think about what awaited them.

As they neared the spaceport, she saw the shuttle waiting. The shuttle that would take them to their transport to Dromund Kaas, to the heart of Imperial space. Ever further from a life she could call her own.

She swallowed thickly.

“So,” she said, unable to fully keep the nervous quake out of her voice. “What happens now?”

**NEXT: A HIVE OF SCUM AND VILLAINY**


End file.
